Free Fleet Box Set 1

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Free Fleet Box Set 1 Page 64

by Michael Chatfield


  “They’ve agreed to our contract for protection and they’ve finalized plans for getting humanity into space. I think that moving the station swayed them.”

  I stared at the gun emplacement blankly. “They’ve finally accepted it?”

  “Yeah, and they’ve got their first payment of materials ready!”

  “This is the kind of day we should get more often!” I said, sharing in his joy. “Have you started recruitment?”

  “Well, I’ve got the ones who signed up before everything that was okayed ready. Though, I’m going to need a few shuttles.”

  I pulled out my data pad. “How many?”

  “Thirteen at least, say, on a running turnover. Have some extras over here maybe?”

  “I’ll give you sixteen, broken into groups of four. They’ll run every four hours.” I gave orders to captains to pick shuttles to be ready to fly.

  “Works for me. We also got the okay to have a base of operations. Russia won the bid. They are the ones giving the most in this deal. They’re probably trying to get the one-up on everyone in the resources industry again.”

  “They do oh so love their oligarchies,” I said, thinking of the mega-rich Russians who controlled unopposed oligarchies in Russia, pretty much doing as they pleased.

  “Indeed.”

  The topic made me think of Shirley Manley and I checked on her status. “Looks like they’ll have to compete with Shirley, though. She’s setup and about to begin digging into no less than four asteroids, and she’s made claims on twelve big ones.”

  She had left the Free Fleet and gone on to directly start her own mining company with loans from the Free Fleet and buying equipment from them.

  She had a much greater edge over others as she was already trained for space, had a crew ready for space and had purchase orders in for mining equipment she understood.

  “Competition is the one thing that humanity knows best,” Rick said.

  I nodded slightly. “Yes it is, unfortunately. Hopefully we can use it to our advantage.”

  “Hopefully.”

  A notification popped up on my data pad. “I’m launching shuttles now; they’ll be with you in two hours.”

  “I’ll be ready for them. I’ll let you know if anything else happens.”

  “We’ll talk later, Rick.” I cut the channel. Weapons, armor, and technical parts, including miners from Parnmal, personnel from Earth. Earth’s getting into space and we’ve got a mining group already set up and pumping out resources.

  “We’ve got another two gun decks to go before we can even think about getting those weapons on board,” Chief Zor barked as he carried a focusing crystal the size of his forearm over his shoulder, chewing his famous gum.

  I, too, had picked up the habit, but only when I was sparring with Yasu or going through training. Chief Zor seemed to chew nonstop. There was a rumor that he chewed even while he was sleeping.

  “Come on, my gun bunnies!” he said as his people’s efforts doubled. The scarred veteran gunner grinned.

  Krom grunted as he began pulling the useless guts from the gun between him and me. Taking that as my cue, I pulled the old power relays. At least everything with guns is made to pull them apart in a quick fashion.

  It was oddly calming taking apart the massive weapons. There was an order to them. They made sense, much like my own rail gun. For a time, I forgot what I was doing as I pulled, turned, and unhooked broken parts, calling a runner to take the parts as I moved on.

  I popped in a piece of gum, finding its minty freshness and ingredients focusing my efforts more as I moved to the next gun. I got in the gunner’s seat, pulling the manual controls for the targeting crystal release as well as pulling the gun in so the barrel was inside the ship instead of a vacuum.

  I kept going, moving methodically from gun to gun.

  A hand on my shoulder made me turn around. I found Yasu giving me an exaggerated up and down look.

  I looked at myself, finding I was covered in grease and grime.

  “Forget something?” she asked.

  I racked my brain. Crap, crap, uhhh, meeting? Paperwork? Training hand-to-hand, yeah. I glanced to the time on my HUD. Crap.

  “Sorry, I just got wrapped up in getting the guns ready.”

  “I noticed.” She glanced at my battle suit.

  We were on the last deck of guns and there were people already working on the last ones. Chief Brusk sauntered into the room, the movement more awkward with its exaggeration for a Kuruvian.

  Zor growled.

  “Seems your gun bunnies are having a spot of trouble. Bit slow?” Brusk said lightly.

  Zor’s four jaws tightened in annoyance. “Not slow, just have more guns to work through, you hippie.”

  “You have five more guns there, chompers. My people could handle that, easy,” Brusk said as Zor squared off with him.

  “They couldn’t hit the broadside of a super carrier though! My gunners are the most accurate in the fleet. Not a bunch of twinkle fingers that fire at every comet they see!” Zor jabbed a finger at Brusk.

  “Twinkle fingers! Well, I’ll have you know, you clean, baby-faced Sarenmenti, that my people have the highest accuracy in the fleet! The reason you have so many guns down is ’cause your people have to spray everywhere in hopes they hit the enemy.” Brusk’s manipulators shook in annoyance.

  “My gunners run their guns to the brink, giving the enemy all barrels.”

  “Breaking all of them!” Brusk yelled, his arms moving in annoyance.

  “Done gun!” the last crew said as they finished their gun, obviously not paying attention through their sound-canceling helmets.

  “Good!” Zor turned to the gun crew, swiveling his head as if it were a cannon to his fellow chief. “Now, let’s go and show the starboard side how the port side can drink!” he bellowed.

  Brusk tilted his head to the implied challenge.

  The port side gunners howled as they made a beeline for the exit.

  “All except second watch.” None turned back, but as I looked, there were already gunners loitering around, cleaning up the mess that came from broken guns being pulled apart. None of them looked very pleased.

  “Remind me I owe second watch a round!” Chief Zor said and grins appeared on the second watch’s faces.

  I followed the gun crews as the chiefs hung back, allowing for me to meet up with them.

  “So, you’re probably asking what that was all about,” Brusk said with none of the previous anger of before.

  “Yes, something like that.”

  “Well, it’s quite easy,” Zor said as we got on a transport after the gun crew. “A group does better when they’re against another group every time. It makes it so we get our gunners into the mind-set that failure is absolutely not an option. Burns, barrels out, focusing crystals burned out? Well, the other battery might have the same thing, yet they might be doing it faster. It becomes a challenge between the two crews to do better. They challenge one another while in training, which will only make them better in battle. Keeping a competition going between the two crews is a common practice that yields the best results.”

  “It used to be that there was one Kuruvian crew and one Sarenmenti crew on the guns,” Brusk said. “It made it so that they were constantly proving who was better. Though, when the crews mixed, they would get into massive fights and sabotaged each other all the time. When the two crews are intermingled and socialize often, then they don’t fight as much and they don’t sabotage one another. It becomes an honorable sport between two teams instead of a bitter rivalry,” Brusk added, the cocky swagger he had walked onto Zor’s deck now gone.

  “It’s also why we change crew all the time as if they were on a team. We keep each side even but it makes it so that they work together,” Zor said. Both of the gunnery chiefs showed their signs of agreement.

  “Would make sense with all the transfers you boys request.”

  They nodded and grinned together as we reached our dest
ination and got off. The gun crews were both waiting.

  “Have fun, and don’t get too drunk,” I said.

  The two nodded, getting off in a flurry of slurs against the other, fake rivals once again. Their gun crews cheered their chiefs on while also intermingling with their opposite sided counterparts.

  “You’re going to need to shower first before we get to hand-to-hand,” Yasu said.

  I looked to her. Nothing touched her features. I sighed. “Very well.” I punched our destination into the transport.

  Krom and Shreesht followed us silently; one of the Sato sisters followed as well. They waited outside as we walked into our quarters. Yasu took a seat on the bed as I went to the shower. I could swear I heard her sigh as I unsealed my battle suit and showered off the oil from the gun deck.

  When I emerged from the shower, I found Yasu studying me. I looked around, alarmed, as I grabbed a towel to cover myself.

  “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” she said.

  I felt even more embarrassed. “Ah, well...” Her look told me I should be quiet and I let my mouth close.

  “When your wife sits on your bed in skin-tight clothes, the first thing on your mind should not be to go and take a shower.”

  I felt like a dolt. I really need to figure out women. I wish there was a class on it.

  She walked up to me. “Though, you are nicer when you shower.” Her lips met mine.

  I let the towel slip away as I pulled her to me. “What about hand-to-hand?”

  “This is still a battle of wills. Plus, it is physical,” she said with a small smirk.

  Well, you can guess what happened next.

  Afterward, we were looking up at the ceiling of stars that moved slowly.

  “Why did you stay with me?”

  “Because you need me.” A few moments later, she turned so she could look into my eyes.

  I could see that her eyes were wet.

  “And I need you.”

  I could see the loss behind those eyes as I felt my own ghosts consume me and my eyes wet. I pulled her to me and felt her against my skin, the life that filled her body and mine that didn’t fill those who we had lost.

  Yes, we do need each other, I thought, equal parts sad for our loss, yet happy for the ability to confide in someone fully.

  In Position

  “We’re in orbit,” Comms said in Hachiro’s command center as Shrift checked the screens around him at the engineering station and people reported to him.

  “We’re all good.” Exhaustion filled him as he’d finally completed his latest massive task. The tech from Parnmal had already been delivered and the ship was on its way back, which meant he didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

  Now I know why Salchar is so out of it all the time. Shrift took another tab of Wake-Up, feeling marginal effects. Now all I have to do is oversee the uncoupling of the ships to the station and conduct an in-depth check on everything. Just the thought made Shrift feel tired.

  Shrift issued his orders as he received a call from Salchar.

  “Heyo,” Shrift said as he opened it.

  “All right, go get some sleep. I’ll have Eddie take over for you. Don’t make me make it an order.”

  I could kiss you. “Thanks,” he managed to mumble out instead of telling Salchar of his inner feelings. He closed the channel and made his way to the nearest unoccupied room, took detox and fell on the bed.

  ***

  Rick plastered a smile on his face as he exchanged pleasantries in the fabricated building, which sat at the edge of the American spaceport.

  Although the agreement for Earth and the Free Fleet had been a thing for some time, the nation’s leaders still wanted to meet with Salchar and confirm it in person. Quite a few were annoyed to be dealing with a subordinate, but it had meant that their aides could take care of the issues, making it much easier on all parties, no matter how much the leaders complained.

  Which meant that Rick had to organize a press conference and get Salchar to agree to meet with the leaders.

  The leaders had agreed that the only proper place to have such an event would be on Hachiro station. They would like it to be there to encourage goodwill between the Free Fleet and Earth, who were finally together to enter into a new age—the Age of Space Exploration. It was exactly as pretentious as it sounded. Really, the leaders had ganged up on Rick and twisted his arm.

  Now, although that request sounded easy, getting it past Salchar was a pain. First, he wouldn’t have it while the station was moving. Second, he wouldn’t have it when the weapons, armor, and other tech were being put on the ships.

  Although the Syndicate coming and forcing people to become their slaves had made people look at space as some kind of threat, many people were excited by the possibilities and wonder of space.

  We are a crazy, adventurous, and curious bunch. Rick watched the shuttles of trainees. Recruits had been removed as a term for new applicants.

  The shuttles for the presidents and prime ministers as well as their collections of bodyguards and a throng of reporters made quite a noise. Most of the reporters yelled questions as bodyguards kept them back, while the leaders of the world pretended as if they knew what the heck was going on. Rick was, thankfully, in the command center for Pandora’s flight deck. While the captain guided the ship or the battle from the bridge, the flight deck command center made sure that everything ran smoothly. They were in charge of getting fighters deployed, rearmed, refueled, and retrieving them.

  “Well, I better get down there.” Rick sighed. His squad was led by Wruck, an Avarian Krom had pushed onto him. Wruck never spoke unless he was issuing orders or confirming them.

  “Good luck, sir,” Wesley Stephenson, the man who made sure the flight deck was kept running, said.

  Rick grinned. “Want to trade jobs?”

  “No way, sir. That’s all yours.”

  “And here I was, hoping I had a savior.” Rick deflated as if moping before he grinned. “Ah, well, it’s why I get paid the big bucks.”

  Stephenson grinned back. They tossed fingers at each other before Rick left the command center. He took an express transport down to the flight deck, where deck chiefs waved leaders onto the utilitarian shuttle.

  Rick fell in behind the moving reporters and VIPs; the former turned their attention to him. The reporters asked him about the shuttle, the Pandora, that they had been in. This is going to be a long shuttle ride.

  Rick kept his comments short, making sure to not talk about anything that would be of tactical value. Some reporters started to do in-depth reports of the shuttle. Rick had the reporters and the VIPs separated into different sections of the shuttle. He wished he was one of the pilots, safely tucked away in the cockpit.

  At least he had Wruck, who stopped all but the most confident politicians from talking to him. Which still seemed to be a lot.

  They arrived on a specially prepared dock. Salchar walked out in his battle suit from the air lock as the shuttle’s doors opened. Reporters set up or went on the fly as the leaders made the most professional-looking walking race to Salchar, who put his hands behind him as he bowed; a few from countries that practiced the same gesture reciprocated.

  “Hello, it is good to see you on this momentous day. Shall we proceed with a tour and the signing?” Salchar asked. Everything about him was picture-perfect, from his hair tied back to his battle suit.

  Rick had to remind himself that the man had done interviews and lived in a world where the media was everywhere for quite a few years.

  Salchar guided them off as he made small talk to a few, flashing a smile here and there.

  I can see why he was good in front of a camera, Rick thought with jealousy as he shrugged and looked around.

  “No reporters or anyone important.” He waited for the air lock doors to shut. “Oh God, that suuuuucked. I have no idea why I ever thought doing that job would be a good idea!” he yelled.

  A few of his protection squad lau
ghed.

  He turned and grinned to them. “How about we pop this musical stand and go get some beers?” he said, getting a few grins as he turned and started walking. “Well, c’mon then! We’ve got thirty minutes till they get to the bars,” Rick said.

  His squad hurried behind him.

  In five minutes, Rick had a beer in hand and was surrounded by his people, Free Fleet people.

  All of his squad, except for Wruck, had a drink. Rick skimmed through what had been going on with the fleet. Before he finished his beer, he was up to date. Then the beer just started to flow a bit faster.

  His world became crystal-clear as Wruck injected him with detox, as well as a few others.

  “VIPs will be here in five minutes.” Wruck’s voice carried as the bar seemed to stand still, handing over their drink containers and paying up in a matter of seconds.

  Rick did so as well, rushing out of the bar and toward the Resilient.

  “Hey, Resilient, how’s it going?” He crossed her threshold.

  “Rather well. I’m in better shape than I have been in thirty-two years.”

  “Well, that sounds pretty good to me! Now would you happen to know where my wife is?”

  “The bridge.”

  “We’re surrounded by workaholics, I tell you!”

  “Yes, we are,” Resilient said with an amused tone that implied Rick might be one of those same workaholics. “Would you like a full report on the fleet, as well as myself?”

  Rick paused for a minute, but the jig was up. He was a workaholic and he knew it. “Go for it.”

  “Cheerleader has completed her reconnaissance of all the systems surrounding Parnmal. Now she is heading out into secondary systems.

  “Felix and Min Hae have been going over the information file Salchar asked me to create and have come up with quite a few ideas. So have the people Eddie has looking at it. Eddie also has people who have completed plans for a base that can be deployed anywhere and will pretty much make itself. The plans for the refiners for Saturn and Jupiter are completed and Salchar has okayed the terraforming project of Mars. There are a few asteroids already picked, and Felix has some people working on a planet bomb, as they’re calling it.

 

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