Blockade

by Craig Martelle

  Terry leaned back and looked at the ceiling. Kae rolled his head as if he was being tortured.

  Joseph looked unfazed. “The end of the Bad Company’s Direct Action Branch in one fell swoop,” he intoned. Petricia punched him in the arm.

  Aaron leaned forward. “Hit and run with a delivery of suited warriors. Maybe we can conduct a little attrition warfare while using subterfuge as our main weapon.”

  Terry did a double-take. “Aaron? Who replaced our Aaron with this staff officer?”

  “I watched an R. Lee Ermey movie while on the station,” Aaron side with a sly tilt to his head.

  “I’m not buying it, but that’s the best plan yet. Anyone else?”

  “When can we call in the Federation’s dreadnoughts?” Auburn asked.

  Micky shook his head again. “We can’t call for reinforcements unless Alchon Prime requests to join the Federation. They can’t do that because there’s a whiteout over the planet. We think the aliens are conducting some kind of localized jamming. We can’t talk to the planet, and they can’t talk to us. We are both on our own.”

  “What’s it going to take to execute a high-speed pass?” Terry asked the captain.

  “Smedley, draw up an ellipsis at an offset angle of thirty degrees, closest point of approach of one hundred thousand kilometers. We break away at that point and the suits detach. They will continue traveling on the original trajectory while we increase speed to maximum to power away from the engagement. We’ll take a couple shots at their big ships right before we turn. Show us that course of action on the holo display,” Micky requested.

  The icons reset. The War Axe moved from its current position in a lazy turn before accelerating directly at one of the aliens’ capital ships. The War Axe turned tightly and darted away before getting too close. The plasma rounds tracked toward the enemy, but Smedley presumed that they wouldn’t hit. The holo image enlarged, showing twelve silver specks drifting through space toward the alien blockade.

  “Are you sure those stealth modules work?”

  “Ted says they do,” Kae replied.

  Terry looked uncomfortable, like he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him.

  Or maybe it was the risk he was being forced to swallow. Slow and steady wouldn’t win this race. He needed to break the alien blockade if the people of Alchon Prime were to eat.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Keeg Station

  Felicity stood in her office, looking at the stars through the transparent aluminum that passed for a window.

  The comm device on her desk buzzed. She ignored it. Ted and the others had been gone for mere hours, but it felt like days. Everyone had gotten back together, in one place, and proved that where didn’t matter.

  Only the company one kept.

  New Boulder to North Chicago to San Francisco to the stars. The group had been together for as long as she cared to remember. What went before she met Billy Spires and Terry Henry Walton was ancient history, dust in a book that would never get opened.

  Her life with Billy had been good, but life with Ted had been better, because he didn’t interfere with her being the mayor. He didn’t need to be in charge. He preferred things the way they were. And he was a good lover.

  Everything she wanted, but they’d gone off to war, as they were wont to do.

  “You fix that ship of theirs and come home to me in one piece, do you understand me?” she asked the window, expecting that the hairs on Ted’s arm would stand up, wherever he was.

  The War Axe

  Ted stood in the middle of a holographic display of the coding used to drive the gravitic shields. He appeared to have more than two arms as he tapped virtual points in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree circle around himself. He maintained a constant dialogue with Plato, his R&D AI.

  Terry and Char watched him, wanting to interrupt to determine the status of repairs, but knowing that doing so would delay what they wanted. Ted wasn’t playing a game. He was fixing the ship.

  One of Ted’s major failings was that he would forget to tell them when the gravitic shields were fixed. He’d move on to something else where casual observers wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

  “Smedley, will you know when the shields are active again?” Terry asked the room in a low voice.

  “Yes,” Smedley replied. “Right now, they are reconfiguring the shields to jump-start them, if I heard the terminology correctly.”

  “Let us know, so we can start the countdown to launch. Do you have the flight plan programmed?”

  “I have a number of variations prepared, including launch points for the mechanized warrior teams and the Podder.”

  “Who said Bundin was coming along?”

  “Joseph ordered his inclusion in my planning. I believe Joseph and Petricia are working with Commander MacEachthighearna on a propulsion system that Bundin can carry so he can adjust his flight profile to match whatever the mechs do.”

  “In case our targets move and we can’t maintain a ballistic trajectory, we’ll need to use the suits’ jets,” Terry explained. “Where are they?”

  “They are in the armored unit storage and maintenance area.”

  Terry and Char left Ted to his own devices. They wondered if he knew they had stopped by.

  ***

  “Stop wiggling around,” Joseph said, losing patience.

  “Podders don’t wiggle. We flow like wind-blown sand,” Bundin replied. Joseph stopped and looked at his alien friend.

  “Where do I look when I want to give you the hairy eyeball? Do I circumnavigate your shell and make sure that each of your four eyes gets equal time?” Joseph asked almost clinically while trying to do his best rendition of a Charumati stink-eye.

  “Any one will do, although I can’t fathom why I would deserve such treatment,” Bundin replied in the low and rumbling rendition of his voice. “What does it mean, hairy eyeball?”

  The Podder’s stalk was hairless, as were his tentacle arms. The stalk protruded from the center of a shell below which were four stumpy legs. Podders had no hair.

  “It’s a human expression of disbelief.”

  “Ah.” Bundin stopped moving and Joseph completed strapping the jetpack above the four waving tentacles.

  “Here’s how you activate it, with this button and these levers. It will push you, so make sure you are aimed where you want to go…” Joseph was explaining, when Bundin activated the device. Even at the lowest setting, it accelerated the Podder directly into the wall.

  Bundin stabbed the button with one of the fingers at the end of a tentacle.

  “You might want to wait until you’re outside the ship before you ever do that again,” Joseph said slowly and clearly.

  “I believe I will.” Bundin’s mechanical voice was more subdued.

  Petricia stood in a corner, watching the whole affair and shaking her head at her husband’s new best friend. Hundreds of years old and never too aged to enjoy something in a new way.

  A blue alien. Joseph saw her watching him and held out a hand, smiling as she took it, and they embraced.

  ***

  “Where’s my Crenellian?” Terry asked, looking around. “And as a matter of fact, where’s my dog?”

  I’m not your dog, Dokken replied from somewhere out of sight.

  “I don’t think he’s your Crenellian, either. Marcie found him, but we don’t keep other races as pets,” Char replied.

  Hear, hear! Dokken called out. They heard his paws slapping the deck and the click of his nails as he trotted around a corner, tongue lolling, ears up, and eyes sparkling. Until he stepped on a glistening patch in the corridor where he started to slide, then slipped, then all four legs shot out sideways and he slammed into the deck.

  He low-crawled forward until he was off the patch of ice. Wenceslaus! I don’t know how you did it, but this will earn you a beating the likes of which people will write songs about!

  “I’m pretty sure the cat had nothing to do with this, although I
will concede that he is our arch nemesis,” Terry offered as he studied the ice. “That took some engineering, and I can appreciate that, whoever the joker is. There will be payback, because I almost stepped on it. Thanks, buddy! You saved me from taking a digger.”

  It’s what I live for, Dokken muttered.

  Terry kneeled down to give both of the German Shepherd’s ears a good scratch. Dokken’s eyes rolled back in his head and his hind leg started twitching as Terry hit a good spot.

  Char’s eyes unfocused as she used her comm chip to ask Smedley where Ankh was.

  >>He’s in the lab with Ted,<< Smedley replied.

  “We were just there,” Char blurted aloud.

  “Let me guess. Ted has him secreted away in his lair.”

  “Seems that is the case.” Char smirked. What’s he doing, Smedley?

  >>He’s rewriting a subroutine to Ted’s specifications. He’s almost finished. Standby.<<

  Char held up a finger before Terry could ask.

  >>They have finished what they were working on. Initial diagnostics suggest the gravitic shields are back online.<<

  Char’s eyes shot wide before her face turned cold. “Shields are live,” she said.

  Terry stood up, much to Dokken’s dismay, and with Char, they hurried to Ted’s lab.

  Micky, it sounds like the shields are back online. We’re heading to the lab now to confirm and get a timeframe for deployment, Terry reported.

  We have multiple trajectories calculated and are ready to go when the word is given, the captain replied.

  Terry and Char burst into Ted’s lab. Ted was immersed in his holographic display.

  “TED!” Char bellowed. As the alpha, she had more influence on the werewolf genius than Terry. He was only a colonel, after all.

  The holographic screens dropped and Ted turned. Dismay contorted his face. Behind him, wedged into a small space, was Ankh’Po’Turn, the Crenellian. He wore his usual blank expression as he worked with the programming screen.

  “Are you done with the gravitic shields?” Terry asked, forcing himself to be patient.

  “Done is relative. They are currently functioning. I cannot guarantee that they will continue to work should we be attacked by that EMP weapon again. I discourage further contact with this group.”

  Terry’s jaw dropped. He could feel his temperature rising.

  “That’s not an option for us, Ted, but thank you for recommending it. We must clear this blockade so the people of Alchon Prime can get their food shipments and avoid death by starvation,” Char offered calmly.

  “Okay, then. I recommend eliminating those ships before they can use their weapon on us again.”

  “What was it? What did the aliens use on us?”

  “Aliens? No. I don’t think they are aliens. R2D2 has this type of research in the database. That’s why I was able to fix it so quickly, but the repair is only temporary. The weapon is specifically designed to be used against Etheric-powered equipment, which means if the shields hadn’t stopped it, anyone with nanocytes would have been affected.”

  “Affected how?” Terry pushed.

  “As in all the nanocytes are rendered inert, albeit temporarily. As in if you get hurt during that time, you bleed and you die, just like any normal human.”

  “I can’t remember what it’s like to be normal. It seems like I’ve been enhanced my whole life. What would I feel without the nanocytes? And how did this bunch get R2D2 research?”

  Char’s jaw was set. “This changes everything,” she whispered.

  A remote corner of the galaxy

  Nathan held his head as he peered between his hands at Terry’s report. “He called the enemy “Fuckberts,” and they are using R2D2 technology.” The head of the Bad Company scowled.

  “Where in the holy hell would they get our technology?” Ecaterina asked.

  “I don’t know, but I think that revelation alone should make it feasible to bring in the Federation’s big ships, a few dreadnoughts to scrape the scum off the bottoms of our shoes.” Nathan leaned back so he could give his wife his full attention.

  Her eyes fixed him in a steely gaze. “We have a leak.”

  Nathan nodded once and leaned back toward his screen. He tapped a couple buttons.

  “Nathan. Judging by the look on your face, this isn’t a social call, but since you didn’t ask, I’m doing well. My last prostate exam suggested that I’m in perfect health!” General Lance Reynolds exclaimed as he chewed slowly on his cigar.

  Nathan did a double-take. “You get prostate exams?” he asked without thinking. The general laughed and shook his head.

  “Only trying to take the edge off whatever dire report you’re going to deliver.”

  “Technology from R2D2 has fallen into enemy hands and they are using it against us at Alchon Prime. I think it’s time to call in the cavalry, and we need to do a little soul-searching of our people working in R&D. The War Axe is out there right now and they are having some problems. Terry’s people came up with a plan to infiltrate the alien ships, which they don’t think are alien. I have no idea where someone could put together such a fleet without us knowing about it, but there you are.” Nathan threw his hands up, disappointed that the ships had been built and launched without him having any idea.

  “If I hear you right, you want me to send the Federation’s biggest and baddest to deal with this threat to Alchon Prime?”

  “Something like that, Lance. These are big ships, and although the War Axe is more than capable of protecting herself, the EMP weapon the enemy has could force Smedley into a position where he’d have to suicide and take the ship with him.”

  Ecaterina shifted uncomfortably before deciding to join Nathan where she could see the general.

  Lance nodded to her when she appeared in the frame. “The Federation is expanding and with each new system comes new challenges. As we think we have a place secure enough to move on, some new warlord raises his ugly head, but that’s nothing you don’t already know. Why do you think Alchon Prime is more important than some other systems where we already have mutual defense pacts in place? I have to expend a certain amount of political capital if I’m to pull our forces out, so convince me why I should do that.”

  “Besides saving the War Axe, Terry Henry Walton, and the entire Direct Action Branch, we also have Ted on board with Plato. And Alchon Prime. We break the blockade, it’s almost certain they’ll request to join the Federation,” Nathan explained.

  “Fucking Plato? How in the hell did Ted get one of the R&D AIs onto the War Axe? Don’t answer that.” Lance removed his cigar and rubbed his chin while rolling the wet stogie between two fingers. “I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “I can’t let these Fuckberts get the best of us. We need to put them down. Hard.”

  “Fuckberts? Is that what we’re calling them?”

  “It’s what Terry called them. Fuckbert.” Nathan paused and grimaced. “McAssholeface.”

  “I gotta get better people.” Lance rolled his eyes. “So the FMs, as we’ll call them, have shown up with first-class warships carrying our research technology.”

  Nathan didn’t answer. General Reynolds was thinking out loud and hadn’t asked a question.

  “You said Terry had a plan to infiltrate the enemy ships. Execute that plan and let’s see if he can find how they acquired our research. And if he’s resourceful enough to get on board their ships, then he’ll be able to stop them from within. After he’s done with them, if you still need Federation capital assets, I’ll make a few calls, chew some ass on knuckleheads that like being carried, and see if we can get a dreadnought or four to Alchon Prime.”

  “The answer is no, then?” Nathan pressed.

  “The answer is not yet.” Lance maintained a neutral expression.

  “I’ll let them know that their infiltration mission is a go.”

  Lance gave a thumbs up and signed off without saying another word. Nathan wondered what else was going on in the general
’s world. Maybe he heard about the Pepsi shipment taking priority over the Coke imports.

  He laughed to himself. The Federation occupied an immense section of space and trying to keep a handle on all of it, keep the members from revolting, took a force of will that Nathan could only marvel at. It made Alchon Prime and their human outpost seem trivial by comparison.

  “The humans are on their own,” Nathan told his wife.

  “Seems so. Anything we can do?” Ecaterina asked.

  “Keep the rest of the Federation from crashing down around our ears so Terry only has his one problem to worry about. I don’t think that’s unfair.”

  “No one’s keeping count, Nathan, but that’s two total fuck jobs in a row that you shoved Terry Henry’s ass into. And our daughter too, if you’re having a hard time remembering that. You will unfuck this and in a way that doesn’t involve us becoming grieving parents. Do you understand me?” Ecaterina’s jaw was set.

  “I will fix it,” Nathan said, having no idea how.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The captain’s conference room, the War Axe

  The enemy ships were presented in greater detail floating above the conference table. The holographic projection displayed them in a way that Terry could select individual ships, expand them, rotate them, and put them back where they were. He was doing that, one by one. The tac teams were wedged in around the table. No one attempted to sit.

  “What are you thinking, Dad?” Kae asked.

  “We have a couple choices and it all goes to how much we are willing to split the team. Thirteen of us on one target to maximize our chances of getting inside, or we split into as many as six teams to go after more ships, increasing the chance that we can take them out if we can’t figure them out.”

  “There are two capital ships,” Marcie said, pointing at the center of the enemy formation. “We break into two groups and take out their big ships, or we split into six and go after the two big ones and the next four largest. If we are successful with all six, that leaves a bunch of tin cans, destroyers, I think you called them.”