"Already in, sir. Last known location was about nine hundred twenty light-years. We'll be arriving in twenty-six days."
I asked, "Do we have an image of this ship?"
"No further data," Dumon replied. "We'll have to evaluate the situation when we arrive. Have you been on a similar mission, Sergeant? Anything we can plan for?"
"Given how little they sent us, I can't say if we've been on something similar or not. I need more intel to make an assessment. I would recommend we keep our eyes peeled until we know what we're looking at. This ship we're on— it's armored tough. It can take a beating, allowing us to get in close enough in most situations for a breach party. But the Fracker doesn't have much of a punch, sir, so we won't be looking for a fight."
"I'm familiar with the capabilities of this ship, Sergeant, having studied them extensively when given this command. We will approach using defense strategy Alpha-3."
Tanner raised an eyebrow. "Alpha-3? That means we'll be no closer than a quarter-light-year. We won't even have a decent visual from that range."
Dumon raised his chin, looking down at the corporal. "I am open to suggestions, Mr. Tanner."
"OK. Then I say we go right in and see what we can see. Like Sarge said, the Fracker is a tough ship— and fast. If it looks like trouble we just turn and haul ass."
Dumon turned to face the sergeant. "Opinion?"
"I think straight in is warranted. At least until we know something. Command gave this to us because they want it investigated. Straight in best fulfills that order."
"Very well, Alpha-1. Mr. Hash, set the standing order for our approach to Alpha-1 protocol."
Tanner chuckled.
"Is there something funny, Corporal?"
Tanner sighed. "Sorry sir. It's just that we don't hear strategy talk out here much. It kind of says you're fresh out of the academy."
Dumon stood silent for several seconds. "Understood. And Corporal, please feel free to enlighten me with the jargon of the forward fighting units. I may be your commanding officer, and I may be newly out of the academy, but I have no aversion to learning, especially if that knowledge will assist me in carrying out my duties."
Dumon gave a quick nod and headed for his stateroom. He had fewer than four weeks before his first mission would require his leadership.
When the lieutenant had left the bridge, Tanner turned to the sergeant. "I think I might actually like this one. A little stiff, but I can work with that."
"Just take it easy on the jargon, Mr. Tanner. If you want him to listen it needs to be constructive in nature and not just you blowing off steam or having fun. Save that steam for Collins and Barnes."
The trip out passed quickly. Most of our time was spent in the lounge where endless games of cards raged between half our team while the other half entertained themselves with movies, simulations, or with reading a good book. And then there was Barnes, always on his guitar with a set of headphones on to keep his music to himself. The rest of us had often wondered if he could actually play. He liked to keep the answer to that little mystery to himself.
The lounge, which was also used for meals, was painted red. It was said it was a color that increased your appetite. Personally, I thought it nonsense. These were Marines, there was no need to increase their appetites. Foods were scarfed down and drinks were gulped. And the red did nothing for relaxation. If anything it kept you on edge. But I had never heard a complaint. On edge was where most Marines wanted to be.
Four long tables that would accommodate about thirty individuals sat in the center of the room. Three walls were lined with heavily padded chairs that were accompanied by smaller tables. The fourth wall held a half-dozen large video displays.
The Fracker carried three squads of seven Marines each. The two other squads were commanded by Sergeant Ronald Bickers and Sergeant Shanikwa Evans. Bickers was a long-timer like myself. Evans was new to being a sergeant.
Ronald Bickers always seemed to come through in a fight— even though I sometimes wasn't certain as to how. His tactics were too cautious for my taste. His face held an upside-down smile that was exaggerated at the corners. Even with his best grin the man looked unhappy.
And Shanikwa, she was newly promoted. She had outlasted four sergeants of her own. Like many of the enlisted women who were combat Marines, the sides of her head had been shaved close with the initials of her rank shaved down to the bare skin. "SGT" was something to be proud of. Less than 10 percent of the combat Sergeants in the Corps were female. And Shanikwa had earned those stripes. I liked the fact she had sticking power. I just hoped that stick extended to her squad. Only time would tell.
I sat at the end of a long table where six of our Marines were in combat over the age-old card game of Texas Hold 'em. Marines were rationed one beer per day when in transition to a mission. Most of those beers were either saved up for a one-time binge or gambled away at cards. I was staring at a pot that had grown to hold the chits for a full case of the heavenly nectar. Shanikwa came in and sat at the end of the table with me.
She slowly shook her head. "Balls, aren't you getting a little old for this rough play? I mean, you've gotta be what? In your late forties?"
"Fifty-eight." I smirked.
"What? Why would they let a fossil like you out here running all over creation? Aren't they scared you'll fall and break a hip? Hahahaha!"
It was at that moment I knew this mission would at least be devoid of one thing, boredom. I liked sarcastic humor. And although my exterior was gruff and my face often sported a scowl, I had no problem chuckling on the inside. Shanikwa's quip had just brought about one of those chuckles.
"They keep sending me out because I keep coming back."
Shanikwa raised an eyebrow. "I think it's more they keep sending you out but you keep coming back."
"Maybe."
"I had a peek at your service record. Eight hundred sixteen missions." She gestured at another table. "Even the old dinosaur Bickers over there is only in the four hundreds. Just know that even though I'll be ragging on you a lot that I respect your record. You're like some sweat stain the admiralty can't seem to get out of their uniforms."
I looked the sergeant up and down. "You have to be at least thirty. I checked your record as well. Twenty-six missions without injury. You must be doing something right."
She chuckled. "Yeah. I try to stay in the back. But that strategy won't work anymore. Now I have a squad to lead."
"I've seen lots of sergeants who lead their squads from behind."
"Yeah, well... I won't be one of them. I've actually spent most of my time on point. I figure I get to best assess the real situation from there. Sadly though, as part of accepting this promotion, I was told I would no longer be taking the point position."
I leaned forward. "I'll say this once, Sergeant. This is your squad. You alone are responsible for their lives and for getting the mission done. You want to stay alive and keep your squad alive— you take point whenever you feel it's warranted. Don't let some promotion board dictate your terms of engagement. It's rare the situation is ever generic enough to align with half the training they try to cram down our throats. Out here, you'll want to use your instincts. And given your record I would say those are probably pretty good."
Shanikwa slowly nodded her head. "Thanks for that, Balls. I've been a bit nervous about all this on the inside— that helps."
Ronald Bickers sat at the other corner seat of the table. "You two conspiring for a mutiny or what?"
I replied, "Just giving out a little wisdom that will hopefully keep Ms. Evans alive."
"Wisdom from You?" Bickers chuckled. "You tell her to just charge in with her head down?"
Shanikwa tilted her head as if asking a serious question. "Would that work?"
Bickers sighed. "Another smart-ass noob. Look. Take precautions. Evaluate the situation. Balls here is like the bull they just let out of the pen after poking it with an electric prod. I on the other hand only proceed with clear thinking
and finesse, when I have a plan."
I shook my head. "Sergeant Bickers here likes to take a poll of the enemy before he commits."
"I won't charge into a situation until I see a route for success. Balls charges in and then looks for a route to success. I frankly don't understand how he's still alive. And those three gorillas with him? They keep coming back as well. But all kidding aside, you won't find a more productive squad to fight side-by-side with."
I returned a half smile. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said about me."
Shanikwa asked. "What do you think about this mission? An unidentified ship? Could this be some Maxan ploy to pick off scouts?"
Tanner let out a hoot as he won the big pot in the poker game. "Ahhh! Come to momma!"
A multitude of plastic beer bottles were pulled over to his side of the table. Grumbles went around the table as the others stood and moved off to find some other way to occupy their time. "Herb" Tanner was all grins.
The corporal looked down the table. "Sarge? You three want some of this?"
Bickers replied, "You know he can't gamble, right?"
"And why is that?" Tanner asked.
"Because if Balls lost he'd retaliate by squeezing your neck in his fist and ripping your head off."
I looked at Bickers. "Might be time you retired, Sergeant. I don't think I've ever heard this much humor coming from you."
"Must be getting senile."
The lieutenant's voice came over a loudspeaker. "We'll be making our final hop in about an hour. For those who need to prepare, this is the time."
Tanner looked at his beers with a frown. "Looks like you ladies got a reprieve. But you best believe I'll be popping your tops for the ride home."
Chapter 2
* * *
A shudder reverberated through the ship as the final wormhole was exited. The trip had taken more than six hundred hops. The space the ship now occupied hadn't seen exploration in more than a hundred years. And even then it had been sparse, logging little more than star amplitudes and the positions and size of the planetary bodies that surrounded them. Most of the fighting with the Maxans had taken place in the opposite direction, in and around the Orion Nebula. Having issue in the direction of the Veil Nebula was unusual.
I cinched up the final latch on my right boot, standing just after and performing a test of the fit. It was good.
The synth-leather of the combat boot was a tough material. Laser blasts were both diffused and deflected while strikes from charged weapons were largely shunted to ground. More than once I had suggested making an entire suit from the material. Command would have nothing of it, preferring their fighters looked professional in war. They had more often than not chosen form over function when it came to battle gear. Sometimes I wondered if they valued our lives at all.
A voice came over the ship's speaker system. "Squad leaders, report to Lieutenant Dumon."
I walked onto the bridge to find the others already there. An image of a ship was on the display.
Dumon said, "Sergeant Balls. What do you make of it? We came out of the wormhole almost directly on top of her. She must have changed direction since we left the base."
I replied, "Or the data given to us was just wrong." I pointed at the display. "Those look like weapons to anyone else? Has the computer kicked back an analysis?"
"Tubes are shorter than those of our ion cannons. Analysis points toward missile launchers."
"Any threats coming from it?"
"Nothing so far. What would you recommend?"
"I think a constant but easy approach. If they don't like our coming in they'll let us know."
Bickers shook his head. "I prescribe caution. Let's shadow it from this distance for a while. If there's no reaction we cut the distance in half and do it again."
Dumon faced Shanikwa Evans. "Sergeant? You have an opinion?"
"Sorry to say I don't have the experience to make a call on this one, but my gut favors Ball's suggestion. We don't gain knowledge by just sitting out here. And our mission is to gain knowledge."
Bickers scowled. "And to return with that knowledge."
Dumon stared at the image of the ship for several seconds. "Mr. Hash. Take us in at a steady pace." He turned to face his squad leaders. "As to you three, go get your teams ready for a breach. If that ship allows us to, we'll be going aboard her for an inspection."
Balls nodded. "I believe that to be our best play, Lieutenant."
The distance was closed with no outward reaction. Under the laws of the Confederation, the lieutenant ruled the ship derelict, thereby allowing a boarding party to be sent across a breach tube.
The tube was extended and a temporary hatch installed. An automated torch was used to cut through hull plating before a two-meter diameter piece of heavy steel fell away, revealing the derelict ship's interior on the other side.
I talked over my comm as I stepped through the opening. "Stick tight behind me. And check every room twice. Given the height and width of this hallway I'd have to guess we are looking for someone or something similar in size to us."
A first doorway was encountered. With the touch of a glove the door slid back. Tanner and Collins moved through, returning without incident only seconds later.
"Looks likes supplies, Sarge. There's a console on the wall, but I don't see a way to interact with it."
Collins said, "Voice controlled maybe?"
Tanner glanced at his teammate. "Voice? You come up with that all by yourself?"
"Stuff it Tanner," I replied. "Keep your focus. Let's move."
Two additional rooms on the hall were checked before a bulkhead door was opened.
Damon asked, "What is the status of the atmosphere?"
I replied, "Oxygen at 20%. Helium is a bit high, but it appears breathable, although I have no intention of trying to breath it until the ship is secured."
"Understood."
The hallway came to a split. "Tanner, you and Collins take Jackson and Mendez. Barnes, you and Thorsen come with me."
Tanner grinned. "Freedom at last."
Collins nudged him in the back. "Stop talkin' and start walkin'."
I said, "And you best bring those two back with you. Otherwise I may have to confiscate someone's beer stash when we return."
Tanner shook his head as he turned away. "Threatening a man's beer... that's not right."
I moved down a hall heading toward the forward area of the ship. Other than the alien writing beside each door, the ship itself could have been manufactured at any of the Human colonies. It was functional in design, the same designs Humanity had come to use during our own space-travel evolution.
I stopped as we came to another bulkhead door; it was closed. "You two fall back to that last side door. Don't come up until I'm through and signal back to you to do so."
Barnes gestured to Private Magnus Thorsen. "That way. Move."
The bulkhead door-handle was grabbed. I turned it with a slow and steady motion. The latch moved free, but a slight nudge was needed to get the seal to break free. I pushed the door open, staying to the side of the bulkhead as it swung away. A creaking noise followed, the noise of steel door hinges that were in need of lubrication.
As I hesitated before stepping through, Dumon came over the comm. "We've been here for twenty minutes, Sergeant. I would think it's time to pick up the pace."
"We're in a ship that is moving at just over half the speed of light, Lieutenant. Someone set this ship on this path. Until we've determined who that is, I'm going to move forward slow and steady."
Bickers cut into the conversation. "For once I agree with him, Lieutenant. We don't know what's up ahead. And rushing into the unknown has as much chance of getting us killed as it does solving this mystery."
I looked around the room, scanning the walls on the other side. "Looks like we're on the bridge. I'd say that is nav over there, comms over there, and straight in looks like a defense console if I ever saw one. Regardless, no one in here
."
Barnes walked over to what was believed to be the nav station. A pole jutted from the floor with a padded perpendicular bar attached to the top of it.
Barnes looked over. "I'd have to say that's a seat."
I nodded. "Make use of it. And Mr. Thorsen, watch that hall. And don't shoot at the first sign of movement, just come out of the way and inform. I don't want us in a firefight with our own."
"Yes, sir."
"Tanner?" I asked. "What are you seeing back there?"
"Storage— utilities— what looked like a kitchen. This next section I'm thinking might be quarters. No sign of hostiles yet. And everything has a light film on it as though it hasn't been touched in a while."
Barnes took a seat. The console in front of him lit up as well as the lights in the room and those out in the hall.
Chapter 3
* * *
Tanner said, "Whoa. This place just came to life. Tell me that was something you did up there."
"We're on the bridge. Barnes took a seat at a console."
Dumon asked, "Did something happen?"
"Corporal Barnes took a seat, which seems to have triggered something on the ship. What's our status outside?"
"Still nothing external."
"Barnes. You stay here. I'm closing this door behind you. We have the remains of this deck and the deck below to clear. If you can find a lock on this door, shut yourself in tight."
"Yes, sir."
"Thorsen," I said. "Come with me."
As we left the room, Tanner chimed in over the comm. "Hey, we're in the quarters. Looks like this ship will sleep a dozen. We have bunks and lockers. And I see what looks like clothes and maybe personal items in the drawers under two of those bunks. The rest are clean. At some point this ship had two passengers."
I nodded. "Keep your eyes peeled. How many rooms you have left to clear on this deck?"
"Two."
"Same here. Entering the first now... more storage."
Tanner replied, "I think I have some sort of weird bathroom here. Collins, step into that tube."
The Squad Novelettes 1-5 Page 4