Aftermath expeditionary.., p.1
Support this site by clicking ads, thank you!

Aftermath (Expeditionary Force Book 16), page 1

 

Aftermath (Expeditionary Force Book 16)
Select Voice:
Brian (uk)
Emma (uk)  
Amy (uk)
Eric (us)
Ivy (us)
Joey (us)
Salli (us)  
Justin (us)
Jennifer (us)  
Kimberly (us)  
Kendra (us)
Russell (au)
Nicole (au)



Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  


Aftermath (Expeditionary Force Book 16)


  EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

  BOOK 16

  AFTERMATH

  By Craig Alanson

  Text copyright 2023 Craig Alanson

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  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 ONE

  Admiral Uhtavio Scorandum was balancing accounts aboard the ECO cruiser You Can’t Make This Shit Up, when a chime sounded to alert him that a ship had jumped in nearby. It had to be a friendly ship, or the chime would have been immediately followed by an alarm, and the You Can’t would have jumped away.

  He glanced up for a moment, cocking his head, his antennas twitching, waiting for the duty officer’s call, to inform the admiral of the new ship’s identity. After a pause, he smiled and went back to the tedious task of balancing accounts. Whatever was going on, the crew was nervous about telling him. He could learn the information from his own display, but it was more fun to let it be a mystery, and for him to show genuine surprise when whoever got the job of delivering the no doubt bad news, delivered that news.

  Bad news.

  He shrugged.

  Anything had to be better than crunching numbers. It had to be done, he knew that, and he knew he had to do it himself. The raw numbers had been compiled by his underlings, and everyone knew a certain amount of skimming at each level was customary and expected. That wasn’t a problem. The problem, the puzzle he had been working on for half a day was there was too much money. Someone along the chain had not skimmed, which would astonish him. More likely, someone had a nefarious scheme going and had declined to skim the usual amount, to confuse the numbers.

  A nefarious scheme to rip off his organization also was not a problem, he would reward anyone who was able to scam him. The real problem was whatever was going on apparently had been operating for months, and the discrepancy only now had reached the point that he couldn’t ignore it.

  Someone had gotten sloppy.

  He couldn’t tolerate that.

  What he needed to do was-

  Footsteps in the passageway interrupted his thoughts. An ensign, an extremely nervous ensign, whose name Scorandum could not recall, stood in the open doorway, antennas vibrating with anxiety. The ensign’s entire body was vibrating. With fear. Yet, the ship had not jumped away, so there was no physical danger.

  What the hell was going on?

  “Ensign,” he waved to the hapless young officer. “Come in, I won’t bite.”

  “S-S-S-Sir,” the ensign stood, feet frozen in place. “A sh-ship has arrived.”

  “I am aware of that. What type of ship?”

  “A c-courier.”

  Scorandum’s antennas dipped before he could stop the reflexive gesture. “Thank you. I meant, who is the ship assigned to?” He steeled himself for bad news. If the courier vessel belonged to the 78th Fleet, and the message was that the admiral in command of those ships expected to be repaid now for the loan Scorandum had taken out the previous month, then two people were going to have a bad day. Because Uhtavio did not have the money, not yet, that is why he had needed a loan. As the humans would say, Duh.

  “An, oh, uh-”

  “Take a breath, Ensign. Now, let it out, slowly. Slowly. Can you speak now?”

  “Y-Yes, Sir. Admiral Sir.”

  “Sir, or Admiral, will be enough.”

  “Yes. Yes, Sir.”

  “The ship? There is a message, I presume?”

  “A message, Sir, yes, but also a person.”

  “A person? Who?”

  “An, an Inquisitor.”

  Uhtavio had been wrong. Only one person was going to have a bad day. Himself.

  The Inquisitor came aboard, while Scorandum continued working on balancing accounts. Regardless of an unscheduled visit from the Court of Special Inquiries, within six days the admiral he reported to would expect to be paid her cut of the taxes Scorandum had collected from his underlings. Because in turn, she had to kick part of the money up to her superior, and so on. By tradition, when he was promoted to admiral, he was assigned to command the worst group of underperforming screwups in the Office. Of the people who were discarded by more senior admirals, only a handful of them had any potential to earn more than the cost of keeping them on his staff. Yet, he was required to kick up to his boss the minimum taxes, whether he had the money or not. Of course, there were many sources he could go to for loans to make up the difference, and the interest rates were generous. That is, generous to the lender. Ruinous to the borrower. To an outsider, the system appeared to make no sense at all, but it was perfect for the purposes of the Ethics and Compliance Office. The system encouraged new admirals to be creative, and to do whatever sketchy things were needed to scrape together the money to pay at least the outrageous minimum taxes. Any senior officer who could not find a way to make payments, well, that person clearly was not ECO leadership material.

  He had screwed himself. The first couple of years were tough, he was still paying off a few loans, and still had to juggle accounts to balance cashflow, but his crew were now renowned as the best earners in the Office. Unfortunately, everyone knew that his crew was raking in serious cash, and so the expected tax payments had become astronomical.

  Even that would be a manageable issue, since he had for years been skimming in a way that no one knew about, and had built up a sizable retirement fund. Most of the loans he took out were not needed, they were cover to hide his wealth, the interest paid merely a cost of doing business. He was set for life, as long as he controlled his wagering.

  And as long as an Inquisitor did not look too closely at his accounts.

  Damn it.

  Footsteps. Different than last time. A single person, but not hurried. Not worried. Slow, confident strides. Slower than anyone would normally walk, even along the passageways of an unfamiliar vessel. Whoever was approaching his office was making a statement by walking slowly. Making a dramatic statement. Attempting to instill fear.

  An Inquisitor.

  Knowing that he was screwed if a team of Inquisitor AIs reviewed his accounts, Uhtavio Scorandum did feel a pang of fear. Until he cocked his head.

  He recognized those footsteps.

  A figure appeared in the doorway, wearing the dark robes and hood of a 1st Level Inquisitor. The figure’s face was hidden in shadow by the enveloping hood.

  “Well,” Scorandum leaned back in his chair. “Come in, Inquisitor Kinsta.”

  “How,” the Inquisitor froze in the doorway, and the words came out in a squeaky tone that was not appropriate for a representative of the Court of Special Inquiries. The hood was flung back, suddenly worthless. “Did you know it was me?”

  “I know you, Kinsta,” the admiral grinned.

  The visitor stiffened. “My title is ‘Inquisitor Kinsta’.”

  “Of course,” Scorandum bowed his head. “Forgive me, please.”

  “This is,” the words were delivered with a scowl. “An official inquiry.”

  “I have no doubt of that.”

  “Good.”

  “Just as I have no doubt your investigation will fully clear me of,” he waved a claw, “whatever spurious lies have been told about me.”

  “The fact that you consider these serious accusations to be lies,” Kinsta took a step inside the office, “only further convinces me of your guilt. For I also know you.”

  “Come in, sit down, please.”

  Kinsta frowned. No, not a frown, for his former superior recognized. The younger man was pouting. His planned surprise, his dramatic entrance, his opportunity for shock and intimidation, had been ruined.

  Scorandum felt an uncharacteristic emotion. Pity. No, affection. The Kinsta he remembered had not belonged in the ECO, and certainly not in the Court of Special Inquiries. Somehow, his former aide had stumbled upward. How had that happened?

  He was not worried, not yet. For a junior-level member of the Court to be assigned, the inquiry must still only be at the fact-gathering stage. Uhtavio was not being interrogated, not officially. He would be requested to provide information, and he could cooperate, or refuse to answer questions. Although refusing to cooperate had never worked well for anyone. Except for one time, and that was a special case.

  So, he would play along, find out what exactly the Court of Special Inquiries wanted to know, an
d decide how best to take advantage of the situation. Including whether it might be time for him to go into exile, again.

  “How may I help you?” The admiral asked, with all the fake sincerity he could manage.

  Kinsta smiled. “A confession would be most helpful.”

  “Ah. It would be useful if you could explain exactly what I am accused of.”

  “That,” another frown. “Is part of the problem.”

  “Eh?” Scorandum was startled. For the first time since he recognized the pattern of footsteps, he felt he might have lost the initiative. He was prepared to bullshit his way out of, whatever charges the Inquisitors brought.

  “I have a confession to make,” Kinsta admitted as he sat carefully on a couch, wriggling to find a comfortable position in an uncomfortable situation.

  “An Inquisitor is confessing?” Scorandum lifted one antenna. “This must be a first.”

  “The Court is not sure exactly what you have done. We are certain you have done something.”

  “Ah,” his confidence returned. “Perhaps you should present your evidence, and together, we might determine how I have been falsely accused, or even framed.”

  “This is only a preliminary inquiry.”

  “I assumed that was the case, since I am not under arrest.”

  “I am here to gather facts.”

  “Interesting.” He smiled. Kinsta was, after all, a rather junior member of the Court. “You have been sent here, because you are an expert at gathering evidence? I thought that phase of an inquiry was usually handled by a more-”

  “I have been sent here, because it was felt that as a former member of the Ethics and Compliance Office, I am familiar with the practices, and schemes, of ECO personnel.”

  “Familiar with me, you mean.”

  Kinsta squirmed on the couch, freezing when he realized what he was doing. “That might have part been of the calculations involved.”

  “Come, Kinsta, we know each other. We served together. Just tell me-”

  “You should address me as ‘Inquisitor’,” the former aide’s expression was pained, his antennas drooping, the ends twitching listlessly.

  “My apologies,” Scorandum bowed his head. “May I ask where your investigation is leading? This cannot be Home Fleet business, or I would have been called to report to a Fleet base. It can’t be ECO business either,” he realized, tapping a mandible with a claw. “Or the Court would have gone through official channels, and I would have been assigned counsel from my Office. So,” he suppressed an inappropriate grin. “What is this about?”

  “Your involvement with the SkipWay multi-level marketing organization.”

  “Aaaaaaah,” Scorandum leaned back again.

  “Also, we are investigating the proprietary Skiptocurrency called ‘Skipcoin’ that is required to be used by Skipway members.”

  “And by anyone who does business with SkipWay, don’t forget about that.”

  “I can assure you that we have not forgotten that particularly egregious form of extortion.”

  “Extortion?” Scorandum raised an antenna. “I feel I must remind you that membership in SkipWay is voluntary, and no one is forced to do business with us. The-” He recognized Kinsta’s agitation, and took pity on his former aide. The junior Inquisitor had come to make a dramatic speech, and the opportunity was slipping away from him. “Please, continue.”

  “It has come to our attention that the SkipWay Corporation is under investigation on Earth for fraud, bribery, mismanagement of funds, and a wide variety of other malfeasances.”

  “Malfeasances? Look at you, using big words, Kinsta.”

  “It is Inquisitor Kinsta.”

  “Again, I apologize. Officially, you may note that I am aware of the vicious and hateful allegations against SkipWay.”

  “You are saying the charges are not true?”

  “Oh, I didn’t say that.”

  “But,” Kinsta blinked.

  “The true crime is that the bribes SkipWay’s management paid were clearly not effective, or there would be no prosecution,” he snorted. “You should investigate that.”

  “The scope of my inquiry is limited to SkipWay’s activities in our territory. There are numerous, serious complaints against your business practices.”

  “Then,” Scorandum sighed. “This could become complicated. I am afraid I must insist that this discussion wait, until I have an opportunity to engage proper legal representation.”

  “This is not a discussion, it is an official inquiry,” Kinsta emphasized the word, that was supposed to inspire fear in the subject.

  It didn’t work. “While I would like to cooperate with your inquiry, unfortunately I must comply with the treaty between our people and the Glorious People’s Republic of Skippistan.”

  “A treaty with a fictitious nation.”

  “I did not sign the treaty, our government did. And I was not responsible for negotiating such an egregiously one-sided agreement, I merely benefit from the overeager foolishness of others.”

  “You were an advisor to Skippy, while the treaty was being forced on us.”

  “Yes, well, since I was in forced exile with the Torgalau at the time, and since citizenship in Skippistan was offered to me at a substantial discount, naturally I sought to loyally serve the Glorious People’s Republic, in whatever humble way I could.”

  “Our government does not recognize your dual citizenship.”

  “Nevertheless, there is a treaty to consider, a treaty that Skippistan zealously enforces, as I am sure you are aware.”

  “This inquiry is not about interstellar politics, it is about the SkipWay cult that has infiltrated our society.”

  “SkipWay is not a cult, it is a voluntary association of public-service minded individuals, who join together to enrich their lives.”

  “To enrich their bank accounts, you mean.”

  Scorandum blinked. “That, is what I just said.”

  “You are refusing to cooperate?”

  “I am helping, inasmuch as I am preventing you from causing an interstellar incident by violating a treaty. All I am doing is insisting, rightly, that you adhere to the terms of the treaty. Any disputes regarding SkipWay simply must be submitted to arbitration, in the designated court of jurisdiction.”

  “A court in Skippistan.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Where, I understand, the so-called arbitration panel is a group of Earth domestic animals called ‘goats’.”

  “Yes. We have found that using goats as arbiters greatly reduces the number of frivolous lawsuits. It is quite an efficient process. Now,” he pulled open a desk drawer. “If you have no other official business, we could-”

  “As I mentioned, this is a preliminary inquiry.”

  Scorandum nudged the drawer shut. “You did mention that.”

  “Also, you are not under arrest, as certainly you would be if this inquiry had advanced past the preliminary stage.”

  “So noted.”

  “According to the treaty, you have the right to an attorney present while you are answering questions, but there is no mention of an attorney being required while I am presenting facts to you.”

  “No,” it was Scorandum’s turn to scowl. “The treaty is silent about that, damn it. Someone screwed up, big time,” he muttered.

  “Very well,” Kinsta took a breath, looking confident for the first time since he appeared in the admiral’s doorway. “The AIs at Central Wagering have detected a curious pattern, that was barely noticeable a few years ago, when SkipWay was first introduced to our society.”

  “It is not good for powerful AIs to be curious,” the admiral muttered, but waved for Kinsta to continue.

  “More recently, the pattern has become statistically significant, and has grown as the number of SkipWay cultists have grown.”

  “It is technically not a cult.”

  Kinsta ignored the protest. “It appears that SkipWay members have received beneficial treatment in placing wagers, such as receiving odds that are more favorable than they should be.”

  “Well, that could be anyth-”

  “There is also a very curious, a very disturbing pattern of wagers being resolved in ways that favor SkipWay members.”

  “Hmm, interesting. I shall be sure to renew my SkipWay membership.”

  “The Central Wagering AIs have concluded that the only explanation is that bookmaking has been manipulated by a very sophisticated, unknown entity.”

 
Add Fast Bookmark
Load Fast Bookmark
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Scroll Up
Turn Navi On
Scroll
Turn Navi On
183