Free The Firestorm Conspiracy by Cheryl Angst Page B

have a bit of fun. The mission has been routine to the point of boredom, and the crew need a chance to relax.”
    John admired Santiago’s vocal opposition. At least one member of the senior staff possessed ethics he agreed with.
    “And you find underwear, syrup, and feathers relaxing?”
    Cheng laughed. “On the contrary, with the right company, I find underwear, syrup, and feathers to be highly stimulating.”
    John hid a smile as Santiago blushed. She walked into that one.
    “There’s something to be said for the bonding experience of an initiation,” Forbes spoke as soon as the laughter subsided. “After all, each of us remembers our commissioning ceremony and all our subsequent graduations from various training courses.”
    “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?” Cheng asked.
    “Because there is a ‘but’ coming.” Forbes grinned. “ But , I don’t feel a tradition born during a time of hostility and hatred toward the avians is a suitable thing to resurrect when humanity is on the cusp of establishing a long-term peace with them.”
    Cheng refused to meet the captain’s gaze. John watched as Forbes waited for Cheng to glance back at him. As soon as their eyes made contact, Forbes spoke firmly. “There will be no initiations of any kind, particularly ones related to crossing the avian line. Is that clear?”
    All signs of friendship disappeared. This was the captain giving a direct order to his subordinate officers. “Yes, sir,” replied Cheng and Targersson.
    John’s estimation of Forbes increased by several notches. He may have been young, but he had a good head on his shoulders.
    * * * *
    The communications packet arrived just before they crossed into avian territory. Rebeccah’s duties became more challenging when the ship travelled at trans-light speed, as it outstripped the UESF’s ability to engage in real-time communication. To compensate, small relay stations were set up throughout human space to pass messages along, but not fast enough to satisfy her need for timely information. At their current distance from Earth, messages arrived roughly three days after they were sent.
    Rebeccah frowned in consternation when she read the contents of the packet. Tucked in among the various messages from HQ was a short memo addressed to her. Innocuous enough, it appeared to be a simple request for a summary of her current diplomatic assignment. Such requests weren’t uncommon as HQ felt obligated to justify the money spent on equipping ships with diplomatic officers in times of peace, and most were accompanied with an attached form for the officer to complete and return. She opened the memo and bit her lip to keep from gasping.
    Instead of the usual directives outlining the procedure for filling in the document, she found an anonymous message that set her pulse racing.
    Information exchange: investigate and log all rumors. Attachment should prove ample compensation for your time.
    Rebeccah opened the attached file. At almost fifty times the size of the standard form, Rebeccah estimated the document was close to two hundred pages long. She wondered why the sender hadn’t requested an investigation through proper channels. After downloading and decoding the document, Rebeccah wanted to know the identities of every person granted access to her logs. Someone in HQ was playing outside the rules.
    Rebeccah stared in amazement at the confidential record of Fleet Commander John Thompson. Why would the government want her to read this?
    * * * *
    “Sir,” the technician at the engineering console said, “there’s a glitch with the quantum field generators in Gen Four.”
    Rebeccah looked up from her reading.
    “What sort?” asked Forbes.
    “I don’t know yet, sir.” He consulted his readout. “The chief engineer says he and his crew are on their way to investigate.”
    Cheng jumped out of his chair. “I’ll go give them a hand, sir.”
    Rebeccah smiled. Cheng had never been good with sitting still during