“Have you tried the sleep training for medical?” I offered.
“Yes. I’ve completed all of the basic courses and I’m learning modification through my sleep training. Though, because of our manpower issues, I can’t leave the Armored Marine Commandos. Don’t get me wrong—I like being in the AMC, but I like doing other things.”
“I do agree with that, but right now we’ve got more ships than we can do anything with and the projects and station are taking a huge chunk of skilled workers away. With the Avarians, we’ll be able to allow more people to leave the AMC for skilled positions. Still, our numbers are woefully low. If we didn’t have the prisoners serving their terms putting Parnmal back together, then we wouldn’t have been able to have two fleets. Even now, most ships are down to a quarter or less personnel that they need,” I babbled, happy to air the issues and in turn keep my mind off my leg, which was still stinging with leftover Hellfire.
“Manpower issues,” Janice surmised.
“Exactly. That’s why we need to get out into the neighborhood. We have ships and need crew. There are planets that are being attacked by the Syndicate or whatever else is out there. If we keep them in our good graces, they could maybe help us with some of our issues. That’s the plan at least. We’ll see if we’re able to follow through.”
Shuttles passed overhead, gunner teams visible in the open-air locks and ramps. My implants beeped that I had incoming battle info and I pulled up my hood. Information scrolled across my implanted HUD, showing the battle for the power station had ended and now Henry had the troops moving to another power plant to assist. My details “request” by Henry was to keep us here, checking over the supposed dead. It’s going to be a long day.
“Commander, the Resilient says that they’re seeing the Chaleel military forces moving in on the power stations,” Janice said.
It seemed that the day was getting even longer.
“Damn.” I moved to a dead Mecha and pulled out its communicator. I connected to it, cleaning it and then putting in my own presets.
“Tape,” I said, holding it to my chest as Dave taped it in place.
“Resilient, this is Commander Salchar. Send me your readings for the incoming Chaleel forces to the power stations.”
I studied the map as, indeed, the Chaleel forces were going out of their main cities and charging the power plants. I’m too thin to defend against them.
“Get me a channel to Carsickle.” A beep signaled I was connected. I waited a few minutes before he picked up.
“Who is this?”
“Commander Salchar. Now, General, could you please tell me why your troops are charging mine?” I hid the fear in my gut.
“They’re making the outer defense. We want a layered defense to fall back on if you change your mind as to letting us be free.”
“That was weak and you know it,” I said, ignoring the jab.
“I’ll show you the defense plans. It’s perfectly normal.”
“It would be if three-quarters of your military wasn’t part of your outer defense. Turn them around. Now.” Iron strengthened my ending words.
“I don’t have the power.”
Go big or go home. I opened a direct channel to Resilient, keeping Carsickle in the loop.
“Commander?” Resilient asked.
“Hey, can you get me the head honcho of the planet?” I asked.
“Do you want the figurehead they made to deal with the Syndicate or the actual one?” she asked calmly.
“They made a shadow government, interesting.” I could hear Carsickle sputtering on the other line. “Might as well do both at the same time.”
“Yes, sir. You are connected to their personal communicators.” As the communications officer cut their channel, two voices said hello at different times.
“Ah, hello, sirs. As you well know, my name is Commander Salchar of the Free Fleet. Now, I talked with the fronting government about defending your cities and allowing us to clean up the Syndicate mess. Now it seems that you’ve decided to attack us in the confusion.”
I noticed that both had tried to disconnect the call. Resilient told me that the shadow leader with the real power had taken off his communications unit, only to find out my communications officer had made it so that if it wasn’t in direct contact with his ear, then it was placed on speaker. So now everyone in the room with them could hear me.
Anything connected could be hacked by Resilient.
“Right now, you stand to make a decision. One that will put your people’s and mine in the balance. If you continue to push your military forces and attack my people, then they will be termed as hostile, like the Syndicate forces, and will become targets. If you think I am bluffing, then General Carsickle can vouch for me.” C’mon, take it—do it! I silently chanted.
“How do we even know that you won’t kill us when you get your people off our planet?” the shadow leader asked.
Yes! He was already talking about the future and not the immediate consequences. Now I just had to keep him on that, and not thinking about what was happening now.
“Now you’re asking smart questions. Good. The answer is very simple; if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already. I could’ve brought any one of my ships and rained hell down on your population centers and evacuated my people at the same time, leaving your survivors with the Syndicate Mechas for company. Instead, I brought more troops onto the ground where you can kill them and I’m working to incapacitate the Syndicate forces on the planet. You have also, no doubt, picked up the transmissions I have been throwing at the Syndicate forces in an attempt to get them to stop fighting. There would be no reason for me to do this if I wanted nothing more than to subjugate your planet. Plus, I give you my word that I wish no harm to the people of Chaleel. I will only attack those who attack me first. As Carsickle knows, I keep my word—as I kept my word that I would return and free this planet of Syndicate control.”
“How do we not know this is another ploy by the Syndicate to make us slaves?” the leader who dealt with the Syndicate asked.
I sighed. “The Syndicate is a bunch of thieves and pirates; they’re driven by greed. They would not have destroyed a corvette willingly for nearly anything. Destroyer? Definitely not. Or why would they have their Mechas killing one another? Again, to them, this is a loss of resources.”
“Anything you say could be lies.”
This shadow leader guy really didn’t like me.
“Communications, could you pinpoint the location of General Carsickle?”
“Yes, sir, I have his location.”
“Very well. If you can’t take my word, then I’m going to have to prove it to you personally. Carsickle, I’m betting you’re in some command bunker far away from your leaders so that if you or the others are killed, operations can continue. If this is not the case and you have VIPs at your location, you may want to move them for our upcoming meeting. Communications, can you get me a wheeled transport to get there? That way everyone can see me as I’m coming in.”
“Yes, sir.” She put me on hold briefly. “It’s being prepped and should be with you within the hour.”
“Great.” I cut her from the conference.
“I will show you the trust you haven’t shown me. I will place myself at Carsickle’s side. That way, if anything goes wrong, you have a bargaining chip. Though once my people have been rescued, if I am not returned then there will be issues.”
“So, what use is there in having you in our care?”
“It allows us to get a feel for one another and talk to one another about the future. After the planet is cleared, we will need to learn to interact with one another. The Free Fleet needs food and we’d be willing to trade training and the fixing of what was destroyed by the Syndicate for that food.”
It was a few seconds before the shadow leader talked. “Very well. We will talk about this later.”
I cut the channel. Janice and Dave had heard most of the conversation from my side. I
could see Krom was already coming toward me; obviously one of the two had told him what they were hearing.
“Commander, you can’t go to him,” Krom said as he reached me, hoisting his crew serviced rail gun to the side as if it were a normal rifle.
“I have to now or my word won’t be worth shit. Also, this will hopefully create a basis of trust from which we can build from.”
“They’ll kill you before you get there.” Surety was in his voice.
“If you see anyone trying to kill me, give them a call—it’ll rattle them. Pull up their personal information and talk about their family. That should do the trick.”
“Killing a warrior’s family is dishonorable.”
Any more of that dishonorable stuff and you’ll sound like Yasu.
“I don’t want you to kill them. Just talk about them casually; they’ll make their own conclusions.”
He nodded his head slowly. “As you say, Commander.”
“Otherwise, plaster them with a laser or something with the least damage for the area.”
“Yes, sir.”
Of Maniacs and Mad Men
General Carsickle had seen the shuttle that had gone back to the fleet that hung above his planet and carried something down.
Now he could see what it was as it crested a sand dune at incredible speed, becoming airborne, coming down on its shocks and continuing on. It was clear it was a tank from the weaponry sprouting over it. It looked as if it were at least two times the size of the tanks under Carsickle’s command but drove like a civilian car. “What is that noise?” he said, the audio pickups getting something.
“It seems that they’re playing music.”
Carsickle stopped himself from shaking his head as the vehicle went airborne again, the shocks easily taking the impact as it continued on.
How can we win against an enemy like that? he thought as people rushed about his hidden command bunker. He doubted it would do any good; it was obvious Salchar knew everything.
Gunfire erupted on the view screen. The entire room tensed as movement stopped.
“Who is firing? I want a team down there to arrest them!” Carsickle barked as fear filled his stomach. If they killed him... It was clear the people under Salchar’s command were loyal and motivated. He’d left them to look after taking the planet while he secured them from counterattack from Carsickle’s own forces.
“Ships are moving in orbit.”
No.
“Prepare to move the leader—”
“The tank is shrugging off the weapons fire, including rocket attacks,” one of the operators said.
Thank the sand!
“Power levels spiked on the ship—it fired!”
My heart can’t take much more of this! His adrenaline spiking, Carsickle watched as the laser strike hit the firing position in a small abandoned house on the edge of the city.
Even weakened by having to burn through the atmosphere, the red pillar of light which was the laser strike turned the building into a molten crater.
Another firing position in an apartment building started to fire. A cap popped off a tube on the tank’s body, firing, and the apartment exploded outward.
“Check on that building. I want reports of casualties!” Carsickle said. “Anyone who fires upon that tank will be given a life sentence!”
The operators busied themselves. “The tank used a low-yield directional weapon that exploded when it was inside the apartment. It only killed those in the room, no other reported casualties,” one reported seconds later as the tank came to the cordon that had been erected.
A mixture of police and military stood waiting, with all of their weapons aimed at the tank.
“Hatch opening,” another operator said.
Salchar looked out onto the main drive. Without a seeming care in the world, he waved his hand, saying something that couldn’t be heard by the command center’s sensor suite.
“Make sure they don’t fire,” Carsickle ground out.
“General, he’s calling us.”
“Open the channel.”
“So, how do you want to do this? Have me step out, drop weapons, and get onto a truck?”
“Yes.”
“All right.” On screen, Salchar was yelling back inside the tank. He threw his arms up as another hatch opened.
“The sands,” an operator said as a giant appeared from the hatch, having problems getting its shoulders out of it. Its head mimicked the area around him, leaving just his red eyes and white, razor-sharp teeth visible as he and Salchar argued. It took a few minutes before the giant sat down in his seat, not looking pleased.
“I’m going to put you on speaker so you can talk to your people,” Salchar said, sounding annoyed.
A second later, the communications showed that he was connected to speakers in the tank.
“Please, place Commander Salchar in a truck transport to the command bunker.”
Salchar moved forward with his arms raised as three police officers and five military personnel rushed to cuff him, cover him, and cover the rest as they placed him in the back of a truck none too gently. Carsickle let his breath come out in a hiss as he relaxed.
“Sir, we’re getting reports that the person we have in custody might not be Salchar.”
“Why?” Carsickle said, whipping to turn on the operator.
“The creature we captured has a natural sensor absorbing ability, long black hair, and blood-red eyes. He is also two foot taller than he was described.”
“That was definitely Salchar, I have no doubt. It seems that something’s changed since he’s been here last,” Carsickle said, speaking his thoughts out loud. “Get me a detail and a holding cell that’s bomb proof. I want to make sure that this is Salchar.”
“Yes, sir. He will be here in five minutes.”
A warrant officer came up to Carsickle a short time later. “Sir, this way. We’ll take you to the cell.”
“Lead on.”
Carsickle listened over his radio as he heard the person thought to be Salchar moved to the bomb cell. When Carsickle reached the cell, Salchar was chained—hands to a reinforced table and feet to the floor.
“Well, might as well get this started.” Carsickle walked in the room. The first thing that caught him off guard was the eyes; they looked like the blood the humans bled and seemed to stare right through him. His skin was different and reminded him of the strengthened polymers he was wearing himself. The fact that it was also mimicking the wall behind him freaked him out.
Salchar’s hair was the only thing that was the same, with a few hairs escaping its tie to dangle in his face and the sides were clean shaved. “Ah, General Carsickle, we finally meet.” Salchar sat back in his chair as much as his chains would let him.
“I guess so.”
“Have you pulled your people back?”
“Yes, I have. Though it seems that you still have some fierce fighting going on. Including in the sky with the atmospheric fighters that the Syndicate dropped.”
“Yeah, that’s not my area of expertise, but it seems we’ve got the upper hand. Plus, we’re using shuttles to assist.” Salchar looked at a wall in thought, tapping his forefinger on the table as he was clearly thinking of other things.
“Nothing to be done but let my people do what they do. However much I would prefer being in the fight myself instead of here,” Salchar said, not sounding too pleased about his position.
“Can you prove you’re Salchar?” Carsickle asked.
Salchar looked to the ceiling for a few seconds. “In this body, probably not, though I could tell you about the talks we had, or the time your people attacked mine.” Salchar’s eyes were hot as he locked Carsickle in his gaze.
Carsickle had dealt with hundreds of such stares but the ferocity and anger behind Salchar’s made him look away first. “I have no doubt you’re Salchar, though the changes you’ve gone through are...different. I have seen some races that grow wings or change their coloring on a whim.”
He shrugged, studying him some more before finally coming to a decision.
“Okay, you might as well meet my staff.” Carsickle waved to the one-way glass, and seconds later, a guard appeared with keys and unlocked Salchar, who got up slowly.
“Follow me.” Carsickle led Salchar into his command bunker. Three guards followed in full combat gear with their rifles pointed to Salchar.
Husbands!
“And so, you let him go to be arrested,” Yasu said, her helmet off as she looked at Krom. Even though she was a foot and a half shorter than him in her Mecha, he looked annoyed at himself as he stared at a wall. To others, it would’ve just looked as if he were angry, but Yasu, being around so many Avarians, knew how to decipher their different emotions.
“He ordered it. He is our battle master, and we must follow his orders.”
“What about mine to keep the damned reckless fool away from danger or being left to his own devices?”
“I am his sworn honor guard. His words are law unto me, and even his battle mistress can’t countermand them.” His voice was apologetic but firm.
“He hasn’t even had an examination after his leg was cut off and he re-attached it himself. He could be bleeding internally and all the Chaleelians will have to do is wait and say they didn’t know of the issue while he dies.”
“He has the ability to request medical treatment.”
“But will he? If he has treatment, then it will probably save his life but at the same time they’ll be able to do anything to his body if he was out. Then they can find a weakness for humans and Avarians. Maybe create a gas that could kill only us.”
“That would be dishonorable.” Krom sounded disgusted.
“It’s called tactics and war.” She felt stunned as the words left her mouth before she could think of them. She looked to the floor in wonder of where her thoughts had gone. She’d just parroted what James would say, she thought incredulously, examining her own thoughts for the lesson there.
If she was to fight dishonorably but it carried her people through the day, she would do it; before, the thought of doing so disgusted her to the point that she’d hated James. When they were on Earth, she had found it so terrible how he had no honor when he went into battle in Mecha Assault Two. He played to win.
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