by J. L. Curtis
Stopping in front of Fargo, he roughly shoved the sheath at him, “Yours. Handmade.”
Fargo bowed, saying, “Thank you Ancient One. It will be treasured.” He juggled it for a second, then got it in his left hand, sticking his right out to shake with the old man.
“Nirvik,” the old man said, then something in his native language that caused Nicole to snicker. Fargo got his hand back and surreptitiously flexed his fingers, still tingling from that handshake as the old man walked off.
Lal, a smile on his face, said, “Nirvik is our resident smith. This blade is a working blade, not a ceremonial one. It was made from steel brought from Earth, and hand formed by Nirvik at his forge. Now you can sit down.”
Fargo sank back in his seat in relief, leaned over to Nicole and asked, “Okay, what made you laugh?”
Nicole smiled broadly, “The old man said words to the effect of don’t fuck up and dishonor my blade.”
Fargo rolled his eyes, “Apparently I’m a crazy man, according to these folks, who have a reputation as crazy as hell. So what does that make me? The head crazy?”
Nicole looked at him, “Actually, what that makes you is their leader, especially in battle.”
Fargo bit his lip, looking at the ceiling as he thought about the message from General Cronin. He finally looked down and said, “Accepted.”
***
As Evie gently set the shuttle on the ramp at Rushing River, Fargo eased his back, inadvertently bumping Nicole who’d been sleeping in the seat next to him. Something thumped to the floor, and they both reached for it.
Fargo came up with the small bundle, wrapped in brightly colored cloth. He handed it to Nicole, “What did they give you? A pound of lead?”
Nicole shook her head, “No, just something from the ladies.”
Fargo glanced at her, “The ladies?”
“The ladies at the Enclave. We got a chance to talk, you know, girl talk.”
Fargo held up his hands in surrender, “Not going there.”
As they walked down the ramp, Nicole laughed, gave him a quick hug, and said, “Smart man. See you in a few days.”
Fargo sensed humor, contentment, and something he couldn’t put his finger on in that quick hug, “Okay. See you then.”
Gearing Up
Three days later, the shuttle picked up Fargo and Nicole at Rushing River. OneSvel was not available and it gave Nicole a chance to pump Fargo, “So, Fargo, what’s the story with your buddy OneSvel?”
Fargo looked at her, “What do you mean?”
Nicole sighed, “Really? You’re going to play dumb on this one?” She started counting off on her fingers, “Showed up just after you did. Claims to be just a med tech. Caught a heart problem without any advanced diagnostics! Performed open chest surgery without any support from the Med-Comp, remember? I was there.”
“Nicole, I…”
“If you don’t want to tell me, just say so, but don’t lie to me.”
Fargo slumped, “I’m going to get in a world of shit… Okay, OneSvel is a Taurasian symbiote pair…”
Nicole made a go on motion with her hand and he continued, “Yes, he is a doctor. He and I were in the GalScouts together. He’s on, what do they call it, a sabbatical?”
“Why here?”
Fargo replied, “Every Taurasian wants to get their name on their board of honor. One of the ways of doing that is to find a new element, compound, or something that has never been seen. DenAfr was the Taurasian on my team when we did the second-in on Hunter. I don’t know if he told OneSvel about something only they would be interested in, or what.”
Nicole cocked her head, “Is that why he travels all over the planet?”
“Yes. I’m guessing he’s hoping to find one of those elusive elements or compounds.”
Nicole leaned back in the seat, “Huh, interesting. Well, at least he saved that girl. Guess that counts for something.”
Forty minutes later, Evie once again delivered them to the Hyderabad, still parked at the Ghorka’s village. Lal met them at the aft ramp, “We’re ready to do uniform and weapons issue. Captain Jace has also allocated a half platoon’s worth of armor for us, pending getting some more in a month or so.”
Fargo nodded, “Sounds good. I didn’t realize we were getting uniforms, too.”
Lal chuckled, “Apparently, that was something of an issue with the powers that be in White Beach.” He glanced at Nicole, “Since we are employees of the Grey Lady, our uniforms are the same as the Patrol, but in grey.”
Fargo rolled his eyes, “Lovely. Nothing like pissing off White Beach to start with… Wait a minute, who is paying the other militia units?”
As they walked up the ramp, Lal shrugged, “Don’t know. Probably the planetary administration, but I think our contract is better.”
Nicole chimed in, “By a factor of at least three. And an additional layer of protection from the vagaries of planetary politics,” as they walked into the mid-ship lounge.
Keldar was once again seated at the table with the listing of personnel, and Klang and Khalil were standing beside a large stack of grey kitbags. As Keldar called off a name, that person went to where Klang was and received a kitbag, then back to Keldar’s table to sign for it. As soon as they did, they immediately left the room.
Fargo leaned over, “Where is everyone going?”
“Trying the uniforms and other pieces on.”
“So they don’t trust the laser measurement system?”
Lal smiled, “Do you?”
Nicole laughed, “Fargo may, I don’t.”
Fargo grimaced, “Okay, okay… I give.”
Fargo’s name was called and he trooped over to Klang, “Seeing you is good, Klang. Help is appreciated.”
Klang handed Fargo his bag and he was surprised at the weight of it, “Captain of the militia, welcome you are. Heavy is the bag.”
Stepping over to Keldar’s table, he picked up the stylus as Keldar repeated in a bored tone, “Full equipment issue. Three uniforms, two armor undersuits, necessaries. One pair boots. One set NVGs. You will be responsible for lost or damaged items unless that occurs in the course of action. Uniforms and undersuits are sized plus or minus five pounds. Exercise and diet must be maintained for fit. Sign on the appropriate line.”
Fargo walked back over to Nicole and Lal, “Well, I’m guessing everything is alpha, so it’ll be a while before they get to you. Since you pointed out there might be an issue, I guess I’d better go try these on.”
Lal laughed and Nicole smiled at him, “Go right ahead smart ass, trust the machine. I am going to make sure mine fit.”
Fargo groaned, “I was serious, I am going to try them on.” Once he got out of the lounge, he had no idea where to go. Tapping his wrist comp he asked, “AI, Fargo. Is there someplace I can go to change into the uniform items?”
The AI replied, “Your stateroom is open. Feel free to use that.”
Fargo made his way up to the stateroom he’d used before and test fitted everything twice. The undersuit was a bitch to get in and out of, especially to make sure there wasn’t any folded or wrinkled fabric anywhere. Getting that in the armor was, or could be, literally a pain in the ass. He checked the catheter and anal vacuum systems for fit and peeled back out of the suit. Trying his new uniform on one more time, he was surprised to hear the IC go off, “All members of Hunter Militia form up in the central passage in ten. Uniform preferred to do fit check.”
Fargo unconsciously brushed what he could reach as he checked his hair, Dammit, should have done a depilation before I got on the shuttle today, oh well... That reminded him of Nicole during the fittings and he promptly batted that thought down. He did a quick check of the grey high necked uniform, now with captain’s bars on the collar and realized it was identical to the GalPat blacks. The only thing missing was the shoulder insignia for the branch.
Fargo stepped out of his cabin and started back down the passageway to the main deck, consciously making sure not to
brush against the bulkheads and to step over any floor projections. As he started into the central passage, he heard a snicker behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Nicole, “What?” he asked.
“Your walk. Like you’ve got something stuck up your ass,” Nicole answered with a laugh.
Fargo stopped and turned with an injured expression, “I suppose your uniform and boots are perfect? Hey, where did you get a khurmi?”
Nicole smiled, “It was a gift from the women at the Enclave. They aren’t into all the formalities men have to have, and of course, I am woman, therefore I know how to keep my uniform clean. Where is your kukri?”
Fargo grimaced, “I didn’t bring it, and I’m going to regret it… But you just got the recorder job since you’re so strack.”
“Strack? Oh...” Nicole sighed, “Fine. I’ll do it this once. But I’m not an admin weenie!”
Fargo finally noticed she had Chief-Sergeant stripes on her uniform, “Chief?”
Nicole nodded, “That was my retired rank. I guess it rolls over into the militia. Dunno why, but at least I won’t be a flunky.”
It was Fargo’s turn to laugh, “I think you may be the junior person in the entire militia here!”
Nicole cocked her head, thinking, “Shit. You may be right, damn you. Every one of these Ghorka are at least CSMs in all probability! Gah, it’s not fair!”
As Fargo and Nicole started down the central passageway, they heard “Atten-hut!”
Fargo almost stopped, but continued forward as he saw the men formed up in new grey uniforms, kukris on their belts and in four columns with Jiri at the head of the column, now wearing warrant officer badges. Nicole automatically got in step with Fargo and assumed the trail position, one yard back and one yard to the right of Fargo as they marched forward.
Fargo stopped in front of Jiri who saluted sir, “Sir, the company is formed!”
Returning the salute, he replied, “Very well, Warrant.”
Jiri continued, “Sir, permission to present the guidon!”
Fargo said, “Present the guidon.”
Jiri did an about face, “Guidon, post!”
Horse, also wearing warrant officer bars, came trotting forward from the rear of the formation with the swallow-tailed guidon at port arms, assumed the position in front of the right rank and saluted, “The guidon is posted, sir!”
Fargo glanced at the guidon out of the corner of his eye as he said, “Company! Pah-Rade! Rest!”
Nicole marched to stand by Jiri as Fargo did an about face to face Captain Jace in his dress uniform, “Sir, the company is ready for weapons issue and uniform inspection.”
Jace replied, “Understood, Captain. We will do weapons issue at the weapons building, along with a display of the twenty-four sets of battle armor we are leaving with you.”
Fargo did an about face and called, “Company, Ten-Hut! Dismissed!” In a much quieter voice he added, “Jiri, would you line them up for weapons issue please?”
Jiri nodded, “Will do, sir. Where is your kukri?”
Fargo shrugged, “I didn’t know I needed it, I won’t make that mistake again.” Turning back to Jace, he asked, “Weapons building? Armor?”
Jace smiled, “They somehow got a bank modular, so we converted it into a weapons building. It’s tight for the armor, but they fit, for now. We’ll be gone a month or so to get you the rest of the sets, plus spares. In the meantime, they promised to get a larger secure facility built. We’re issuing four point five mm bead pistols, and six point five mm bead rifles for unarmored use. I think you’ll like them.”
“And the armor?”
Jace laughed, “Oh, I know you’ll like it! And we’ve done a little tweak just for your folks…”
Fargo shook his head, “Why do I think I’m not going to like this? Is this something nobody else is going to have?”
Jace said quietly, “This is next generation GalPat, de Perez is developing it for them, and we had these sets on board. They were supposed to go to the GalPat DEVGRU out here, but I think you’ll need them more.
Jace just smiled and waved Fargo ahead of him. Nicole tagged along behind them, wondering What the hell is going on? I don’t remember ever seeing either a 4.5mm pistol or a 6.5mm rifle that was worth a shit. Now they’re going to be issued? Tweaked armor? How can that end well? And where did they come up with twenty-four sets of battle armor? More to the point, how did they get it? That stuff is never let out of GalPat control; how can this captain just give it to us?
***
Fargo came off the hastily set up range, impressed with both the pistol and rifle. They weren’t fancy, but they were definitely functional. He’d also been surprised that they had both clicked into his neural lace, feeding him status and rounds remaining. At 3000 feet per second for the 4.5mm pistol, he was surprised at how much damage the glass bullets could do. The 6000 feet per second 6.5mm caseless ammo out of the rifle was also impressive. He wasn’t so sure about the less than lethal 8mm riot gun. That one you had to select the round using your lace and wait for the round to load, but the options were interesting. Gas, bag rounds, an irritant, a smoke and a stink round. He decided to leave those to someone else.
Jace had pointed out the rationale for glass bullets, saying, “Gotta remember, not all planets have metals that are easily mined. Many do have sand or silica, easy to convert into a projectile and the bonus is they are effectively frangible rounds. They won’t penetrate armor, but they’ll do a number on anything else! And you’re getting four twenty-mil battle rifles, just in case.”
Fargo nodded, “Understood, but damn, even the rifle is barely twenty-two caliber… For folks used to a combat weapon…”
Jace smiled again, “It’s all in the eye of the beholder. Wait until you see the full demo on them. Remember, they are not designed as battle equipment, more like peacekeeping. Ah, here comes Evie!”
Fargo looked around to see twenty sets of armor marching in step, one behind the other, around the side of the building. Evie keyed the external speaker, “Lady and gentlemen, let me introduce you to your new Phantom Two armor- Now you see it,” the armor disappeared except for a fuzzy edge, “Now you don’t.” And the armor popped back into his vision.
“Damn! Photonics? Gotta be…”
Evie continued, “What you just saw is the photonic skin of your armor working to bend light. While it cannot make you completely invisible, it does reduce the signature across all spectrums, not just the visual. Very handy in some situations.”
Fargo heard a murmur start from the militia as Evie turned the armor to face them. The murmur turned into a roar of cheering as they saw what was emblazoned on the side of the armor. Somehow, there appeared to be a kukri in a sheath on what would be the beltline of the armor.
***
Jiri and Fargo leaned against the weapons building, hiding in the shade. Jiri said, “Captain, you realize this is not standard armor. This is even more advanced than the current GalPat armor. Where did it come from?”
“We are going to be the test bed Jiri. That’s what I was told. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No! Newer is good! I think we will have the best armor on Hunter,” he said with a smile.
Two hours later, Fargo slipped into the aft hatch on the armor, feeling the momentary claustrophobia he always hated, as the hatch silently closed, and the emergency red lighting came on. He wiggled himself into the seat, comforted that he didn’t have to connect the waste tubes and rubbed his hands together before placing them on the pads.
He felt the snap as the suit connected to his neural lace, and the AI came on line in a soft female voice, “Welcome, Captain. Do you desire a systems demonstration?”
Fargo looked at his face screen, noting a number of different cues and outputs he hadn’t seen before, “Please. Do you have a name?”
The AI responded, “No, sir. What you decide to call me is up to you. I note you have the full command lace, which opens other capabilities, do you wish th
e full capability set to be activated?”
Fargo looked up and the cameras followed his eyes, presenting a view of a dark blue sky, with a few puffy clouds, “Cindy. I shall call you Cindy. Yes, activate all functions.”
The AI replied, “Cindy I shall be. I sense from your feedback loop this name is important to you.”
Fargo clamped down on his emotions, “My wife, dead for many years.”
“I am sorry, Captain.”
***
Fargo uncased the 6mm railgun on his starboard shoulder, blinked the carat onto the target at the bottom of the ridge, and commanded three rounds. Satisfied he had the basics down, he turned and started jogging back toward the weapons building. Over the TAC channel he heard, “Watch this!”
He glanced at the suit dispersion and carated the suit that had made the transmission. It was Horse, and he slewed the cameras to watch the suit as he jogged along. He saw the suit take off at nearly full speed, then jump on anti-grav, do two full rolls, land on its feet, then overbalance and go ‘head first’ into the turf, plowing a trench about twenty feet long as it slid to a stop.
He couldn’t help laughing, especially when he flipped on the outside mics and heard the laughter, along with the hurrahing going on, on the TAC channel. Horse finally said, “I meant to do that… See, I have my own foxhole and I can still fire.”
Fargo saw the 20mm railgun deploy off the port pylon, fire one round and center punch the target a half mile away. “Um, Horse, I don’t think we’ll need that as a tactic, but if we do, I’ll make sure you’re the one assigned for that function.”
Horse popped up, and raced back to the weapons building, “Captain, if it works, it’s not wrong.” He slid the armor to a stop, kneeled it, and was out and gone before Fargo could get back and unass his own armor.
It was going to take a lot of study to get up to speed on this new armor, and Fargo had a niggling idea that would be important. Sadly, he’d have to fly down here to do it, but at least he could use the e-tainment sims for some of the training at home.