A Star Wheeled Sky

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A Star Wheeled Sky Page 11

by Brad R Torgersen


  “One moment,” Zuri said, and used a switch on her gee chair’s keyboard to mute the tactical feed. She quickly ordered Catapult to perform a full sensor checkout, to determine if what had been reported by the Antagean ships was accurate. After several minutes, during which Zuri gnawed at the thumb on her left fist, Catapult’s command module crew unanimously confirmed Lady Oswight’s report. Evidence for a single ship’s passing was detectable, but only a single ship. Not the fresher, newer tracks which would have been made by another group of vessels.

  Zuri switched open the tactical feed again.

  “All right,” she said reluctantly. “Proceed, madam. But understand that Lieutenant Commander Antagean is in full control of the detachment. Those are his company’s ships, but he’s carrying several hundred of my men and women with him. In addition to yourself. He’s responsible for all of it. Antagean, is that understood? You’ve got detachment command until further notice. I expect you to stay in touch with the Task Group throughout. And the moment you see or hear anything of Daffodil, we want to know immediately. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly clear, ma’am,” Antagean said, reflexively dipping his chin to his chest in acknowledgement of the order. “Both Lady Oswight and the detachment personnel aboard my ships, are in good hands. We won’t do anything foolhardy. Captain Loper and I have already been plotting a conservative reconnoiter approach which should give us a look at two of the outer jovian planets before we close on two of the inner terrestrials—with an eye to finally winding up in orbit around that big superjovian close to the main star.”

  “An astronomer’s dream,” Zuri remarked. “Too bad we didn’t bring any of them along.”

  “I’m the eyes of the university faculty,” Lady Oswight said, breaking into a grin. “Lieutenant Commander Antagean assures me that the telescopes and other sensor module equipment, on each of his ships, is up to the task of giving this system a proper first look. I am eager to collect as much data as possible. And, hopefully, we find out something new about the Waymakers themselves.”

  Zuri nodded her head in understanding. Underlying the Lady Oswight’s excitement for the survey was the hope all of them felt—that something new here, some dramatic clue, might give them a better understanding of who the Waymakers were. Or, at least, how their technology worked.

  “Proceed,” Mikton finally ordered. “May God favor the bold and the free.”

  “Victory with honor, hurrah, hurrah,” Wyodreth Antagean responded loudly, though Mikton was sure she heard the Oswight majordomo again shouting the response to the motto, just off-screen from Lady Oswight herself.

  The squares for both Oswight and Antagean went black.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Urrl asked, from his gee chair next to Mikton’s.

  “No,” Zuri said. “But she did make some good points. And I’d rather cut her loose to go exploring than have to sit here for the next few days taking increasingly angry and impatient calls from some girl who can potentially have all our careers on a platter, assuming we get back and she goes running to her father about how Mean Old Mikton wouldn’t let the Lady Oswight go and play.”

  “It’s not even her I am concerned with,” Urrl grumped, coughing into his fist.

  “Ah,” Zuri said, now tracking what Urrl was actually saying. “You think Antagean’s not up for running the detachment? They are his ships after all. And he’s not some young ensign who’s never even done a watch before.”

  “Maybe send Tarinock to chaperone?” Urrl suggested.

  “If we had more of Iakar’s force here with us now, I’d send Tarinock and Gouger both. But until the Oswight yacht brings us some additional firepower to form the nucleus of a security force for our Waypoint, we need to keep all three DSOD ships here. Where we can concentrate our attack pattern—such as it is.”

  Urrl nodded his head in understanding, then sighed, and went back to typing on his own gee chair keyboard.

  “Damned shaky thing, being out here on a limb like this,” he said.

  “Don’t have to remind me,” Zuri replied. Then she raised her voice, and addressed Catapult’s captain. “Is the Hallibrand ready yet?”

  “Almost,” the captain replied. “Couple more minutes.”

  “Iakar knows the priority of fill,” Zuri said. “So there ought to be no confusion, nor dithering, back in Oswight territory.”

  “I’ll make sure the DSOD liaison aboard the Hallibrand understands your intent,” the captain replied, and started speaking into his headset.

  Chapter 16

  Lieutenant Commander Antagean was furious, and could not show it. Having excused himself from the command module of his starliner, he silently hurled obscenities at the bulkheads. Taking his ships to the inner system, without armed escort, was an extreme gamble. Lacking a recon report from the Daffodil, he had no idea what any of them would be getting into. And while he didn’t doubt the heartiness of the civilian crews, or their DSOD counterparts for that matter, it wouldn’t do any of them a lick of good if they met foreign warships along their route.

  And all because Garsina Oswight didn’t want to wait.

  She didn’t seem to appreciate the risk, whereas Wyo was now painfully aware of the numbers in his head. If even one starliner became disabled or, God forbid, destroyed, he’d be looking at over sixty Antagean personnel dead, along with almost two hundred DSOD troops. And he would be the one responsible. Not the Lady Oswight. Ohhhhh, no. She could flex her Family name all she wanted, but when things went sour, Wyo knew he was going to be the man who had to live with those deaths on his conscience.

  He stopped at one of the berthing modules, and stepped out into a small sea of Antagean and DSOD people sprawled on their gee bunks. Now that the ship was back under thrust again, using handholds and grip boots was unnecessary. Everybody was thankful to have a modicum of gravity.

  One of the senior sergeants noticed Wyo walking into the bay, and he snapped up out of his bank and hollered the entire bay to attention. Dozens of feet quickly slammed to the deck, while the civilian ship’s compliment hopped up as well.

  “Sir,” said the veteran noncommissioned officer who’d so expertly brought the entire bay to its feet. “Ready to deploy when you need us.”

  “Thank you,” Wyo said, still unused to the formal regard given him when he was wearing a DSOD uniform. Wyo liked the casual approach of the civilian world. He thought it calmer, friendlier, and in the end, more efficient. Military discipline was for people who needed the reinforcement, which few Antagean employees did. Or they soon discovered they weren’t employees anymore. Wyo—like his father—preferred to run the company according to the grownup standard. There were bigger operations in Starstate Constellar, but Antagean paid the best of any of them. So Antagean could afford to be picky.

  Deep Space Operations and Defense—like all militaries throughout history—was more of a mixed bag. Some really good people, mixed with the usual lifers who did just enough to keep advancing in rank, and then there were the duds. Men and women who really didn’t have anywhere else to go, nor much else they could do. Especially among the ranks of the Tactical Ground Operations division. Like Oswight’s majordomo, who’d clearly never left the TGO—in his heart—and wore this sentiment on his sleeve.

  Wyo studied the faces in front of him while his arms hung uselessly at his sides.

  “We’ve been ordered to proceed without protection,” Wyo said matter-of-factly.

  “Figured it might be that way,” the NCO said crisply. Unlike Wyo, who wore the one-piece spacer’s flight suit common in the ship’s command module, the NCO was dressed in a battle zipsuit not too different from the one Lady Oswight herself had been wearing the entire time she’d been aboard. His rank chevrons were prominent on both shoulders, and the zipsuit appeared to have been well maintained, with bulkier shielding than was customary with civilian editions. Including lock-and-interface points for a full set of combat armor, in the event that such armor became needed. Wyo h
imself had such a zipsuit, with matched armor plate, stowed in the military trunk which had been put together for him and brought aboard before departing Planet Oswight’s orbit.

  “I hope we find something in this system worth our time and trouble,” Wyo continued. “Until we do, I don’t have much to tell your company commander. So, I am afraid everyone has to play the hurry-up-and-wait game.”

  “Copy that, sir,” said the NCO. “This wouldn’t be the first time, for many of us. It’s all right. We’re enjoying the civilian accommodations while we have them, including your galley. It’s a step up from what we’d find on an ordinary DSOD battle transport.”

  “Yes it is,” Wyo said, smiling. “Courtesy of Antagean Starlines, I would add. Consider it a modest perk, working with the company.”

  “So if you don’t mind my asking, sir, in what capacity are you paying us a visit today?”

  “Both,” Wyo said. “Most of the Antagean crew already know me, or at least know my reputation. But TGO personnel probably don’t know me from a hole in the bulkhead. And since we’re going to be potentially seeing a lot of each other over the coming days, or perhaps weeks, I am hoping to at least make my presence known. Admiral Mikton’s placed me in charge of the detachment while we’re separated from her Task Group, and this means I’ll be a lot more involved in your company commander’s battle rhythm. And also that of the NCOs. Especially on this ship. So, maintain readiness, enjoy the civilian-upgraded lifestyle while it lasts, and I will do my best to make sure that all of us—all three ships—not only complete this mission in one piece, but return to Oswight space able to tell the tale.”

  “Victory with honor, hurrah, hurrah!” sounded the lot of them.

  Wyo was almost embarrassed, but repeated the second half of the motto with as much gusto as he could muster. The NCO saluted, Wyo saluted back, and then stepped out of the bay, to go repeat his performance elsewhere on the ship. Each time, he told the men and women what he could, and when he finally returned to the command module, his nerves had settled down enough that he wasn’t ready to chew through a bar of hull steel.

  “How are people handling themselves?” Captain Loper asked as Wyo settled gratefully into his gee chair.

  “Okay so far, but nothing bad has happened yet. When something bad happens, then we’ll see what we’ve got.”

  “Talking to Admiral Mikton’s exec,” Loper said, “I get the impression he thinks the same of you.”

  “Oh?” Wyo said, sitting up a bit.

  “He didn’t come right out with it, in so many words,” Loper admitted. “I can just tell, one old starship jock to another old starship jock, that Commodore Urrl isn’t exactly thrilled with the idea that you—and you alone—are carrying the flag for this so-called detachment we’ve created.”

  Wyo’s mood instantly grew uncivil again. He quickly looked around the command module, to be sure there were no First Family ears to hear him speak seditiously, and then he cut loose.

  “Next time you have to talk to Urrl, or anyone else from Admiral Mikton’s staff, you make it known precisely how much I disapprove of this adventure—and that it’s all the Lady Oswight’s damn idea. I’d have preferred it if we stayed put with the rest of the Task Group, and awaited some actual armed backup, before taking off to explore this system. I mean, the job is the job, and we’re obviously equipped to put boots on the ground, wherever it’s required. But I told Mikton’s staff from the very beginning that our starliners will present big, juicy targets for any Nautilan force sent to interdict us. If Mikton and her people are wrong—if Nautilan or one of the other Starstates has managed to put ships into this system ahead of us—our starliners may pay the price. Not something I happily risk by choice, that’s for goddamned sure. And it’s because we can’t tell that First Family idiot to go airlock herself when she has no idea what she’s dragging us into!”

  Wyo had practically shouted his last sentence. He looked at the half dozen Antagean employees surrounding him, and added, “If even one of you leaks back to that woman what I said just now, you’re fired.”

  A ripple of laughter went around the command module, then Captain Loper said, “What gets said between Antagean folk, stays among Antagean folk, right?”

  Murmurs of agreement.

  Wyo sank lower into his gee chair, and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “By the Exodus,” he said, “this mission is going to put a decade on me before it’s over.”

  “So…it’s safe to say you never got around to that apology I suggested,” Loper remarked, as he idly scanned one of the ship’s manifests on his flatscreen.

  “Nope,” Wyo said.

  “And based on the way you two argued, prior to our detachment from the Task Group, I imagine there isn’t going to be an apology.”

  “Nope. Lady Oswight is getting what she wants. An unguarded expedition to the center of the system. She has her way.”

  “Well,” Loper said, coughing uncomfortably, “she is a beautiful young woman. In my experience, beautiful young women almost always have their way. Even with young men who don’t want to give it to them. Or should I say, especially with young men who don’t want to give it to them?”

  “I’m at least a dozen years her senior,” Wyo scoffed, “and you think I haven’t learned how to handle beautiful women? If I had a starliner for every climbing socialite who’s tried to get at me since I turned twenty, Dad could double the size of his fleet! They look at me, and they see money. A quick path to financial independence. I’ve had to fend off much prettier, and much more aggressive, females than Oswight.”

  “Yeah,” Loper said, “but none of them had the authority to boss you around if they wanted. The Lady Oswight does. Or at least, she does through her Family connections. Which takes us back to that apology which never happened. It seems to me that you could afford to reconsider mending the fence. If for no other reason than the fact that all of us are going to have to be working with and for this person until we take her home.”

  “And that pet brute she brought with her—” Wyo began, but was cut off.

  “Is just a doting old trooper who guards her the way he’d guard his own child,” Loper said sternly. “It wasn’t that long ago when your father gave me a similar responsibility. And let me tell you, you were both arrogant and insufferable.”

  Wyo sat back up again, feeling heat in his cheeks.

  “You never told me that,” he admitted.

  “Well, now you’re gonna hear it, kid. When you first came aboard, almost two decades ago, you thought you knew everything. Your father was the boss, and you were the boss’s kid, and you thought you had the run of the place. When I slapped you down hard—and had to keep slapping you down hard—you just got more and more pissed off about it. To the point I contacted Wyograd and told him it was probably a bad idea to keep you out on the ship with me. You seemed to hate it, and to be honest, I kinda hated you.”

  Wyo listened intently, staring at the face of his mentor. In all the years he’d known Loper, the man had never said anything remotely like this before. Oh, sure, life had been tough the first couple of years Wyo had been under Loper’s supervision, but Wyo was proud of the fact that he had toughened up quick. Grown into himself. Learned to do hard work, on hard days. The kind of work somebody like Garsina Oswight had never, ever had to perform in her life.

  But now Wyo was being told things about himself which gave him pause.

  “Obviously Dad told you no,” Wyo said.

  “Not only that,” Loper said, “he told me to beat on you harder. He said to me, ‘That damned boy is soft, and he’s not going to stop being soft until he learns he’s not the center of the goddamned universe,’ end quote. So, if you’re feeling particularly irked by our First Family girl, remember that you weren’t terribly different from her once. And it took running you through the ship’s proverbial recycler a few times to clue you to the fact that your bowel movements stank to the same degree as everybody else’s. I have to assume Lady O
swight has never stepped far from her sire’s shadow. I sense a lot of proper finishing with her. But also a great deal of resentment. Mixed with inexperience beyond the regimented protocols of Family life.”

  “So?” Wyo asked, becoming somewhat exasperated.

  “So…maybe instead of hating her guts for who she is, Wyo, you can have a little sympathy? I know neither you nor your father think as well of the Families as the Families would like you to. But that Oswight girl, she’s trying to establish a footprint. Apart from her name. I know. I’ve chatted with her enough—away from the watchful eyes of Mister Axabrast—to know that she’s eager to make her mark well beyond the Family title.”

  Wyo considered. He’d never looked at the problem in that light before. It did explain why Lady Oswight was willing to risk going to the inner system without protection. In a sense, she was eschewing Admiral Mikton’s umbrella the way she sometimes eschewed Axabrast’s umbrella. Wyo searched his memories of adolescence, and could recall how freeing it had been to be out among the stars. Even if Loper had been a taskmaster. At least Wyo had been granted time to find himself. And ultimately go back home—being his own man.

  “It’s still a bad idea to be doing this,” Wyo said.

  “Yes it is,” Loper said. “Just like it’s a bad idea for any of us to do half of any of the things we do in life, for the sake of potential reward. But then again, how boring would it be to never take chances? Your father took many during the early years of the company. Once or twice, I thought he had literally broken us. But it all worked itself out in the end, and the company pushed forward. Largely on Wyograd’s will to not fail. And the fact that he always made sure to do right by the employees who had done right by him. People can stick together through almost anything, provided they trust each other.”

 

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