by Mark Wandrey
“Joe, Cartwright’s is back!”
Shortly, every member of the Cartwright’s Cavaliers was gathered in one of Little Joe’s seldom-used banquet rooms. A couple of poorly maintained service robots were bustling about setting plates, silverware, and glasses full of ice water. When the places were set, the robots went around taking orders. Shortly thereafter, drinks and appetizers began to appear in abundance. The party was well underway.
The food showed up, plentiful and well-cooked, with a variety of real beef dishes, fresh fish, and all kinds of sides. The Cavaliers dug in with enthusiastic abandon. Finally, after a good hour of eating, the voracious mercs began to slow down. Deciding it was the right time, Jim stood up and clinked his wine glass with his fork. Slowly the conversation fell off.
“Cartwright’s Cavaliers,” he said loudly, “tonight we toast to rebirth. This company has been around since the dawn of our current era. Of all the companies who fought in the Alpha Wars, only four of us came back. And through all the intervening years, we’ve led the way to success after success.” He looked down and thought about his next words. “It is ironic that it took deceit to bring us down, and it was even more ironic this deceit came from within. From one of us.”
“She was not one of us,” an older merc, who was one of the few who’d been part of the unit before, said. There was a chorus of agreements making Jim hold up both hands.
“No, she was one of us. My mother. What she did was wrong, but it’s done. It’s in the past,” he said and thumped the table with both hands, making a serving robot jerk in surprise. “It’s not a part of the future. You,” he said looking around the room, catching everyone’s eyes, “you are part of the future. Together, we’ll make Cartwright’s Cavaliers even greater than it was before. And I’ll do my best to make that come true.” Jim lifted his glass in toast.
A second later everyone in the room cheered and lifted their glass to salute back. Jim smiled and took a drink. Hargrave nodded to him, and Jim knew he’d said what needed to be said. A little bit later, Hargrave came over and sat next to him.
“Good job,” he said and patted Jim on the arm.
“Thanks,” Jim said. “I think we’re ready to go.”
Hargrave agreed. “The transports started taking off an hour ago.” Jim liked the sound of that. “Captain Winslow elected to take command of the Traveler for this mission.”
“That’s good news too!”
“I agree,” Hargrave said; “he’s the perfect choice, and he has experience with the Enterprise class that the Traveler is based on.” He took a drink of wine and grinned. “And one more thing. You know that squad sergeant position we didn’t fill?”
“Yes, we were talking about whether we could promote a trooper to fill it.”
“We don’t have to do that now.”
“You found someone?” Hargrave smiled again. “Is the person experienced?”
“You could say that.” Hargrave looked at his personal communicator. “He’s here now, just came down from his ship.” Jim looked up as the banquet room opened, and a huge figure strode in, a giant duffel bag over his shoulder that looked like it weighed a ton.
“Lemmas, iki kaikuaʻana!”
“Buddha!” Jim cried and leaped to his feet. The big man dropped his heavy bag with a thump and crossed the room to sweep Jim into a massive, bone-crushing hug.
“You have lost weight!” he said, swinging Jim back and forth.
“A little,” Jim moaned as Buddha put him back on the floor. “I thought you were signed with the Band of the Grand?”
“I was. The CO let me out of my contract when I explained you needed me. If you do not, I can go back.”
“No!” Jim laughed, “I’m glad you are here! Will you take First Squad, First Platoon?”
“By your side? I would have it no other way.” He looked around and sniffed. “Is there more food?”
Hours later, the party had broken up, and many of the Cavaliers were already on their way back to the barracks to rest before heading up to orbit in the morning. Eventually it was only Hargrave, Buddha, and Jim. They all left together after Jim had paid the…rather startlingly large bill. He’d had more than his share of alcohol, something he’d seldom done. Despite this, he was no lightweight. Being a large man, Jim had the advantage of a lot of poundage to soak up alcohol. Even Murdock had given the kid his due when it came to drinking.
“Jim Cartwright?” someone called out as the group waited for their cab. Jim turned on somewhat unsteady legs, still laughing from an outrageously inappropriate joke Hargrave had just told. A woman was standing a few feet away holding something in her hand. Jim was still trying to figure out what it was when Hargrave and Buddha both stepped between him and the new arrival. Guns had appeared in both men’s hands almost like magic. The woman, who was rather attractive, almost had a heart attack.
“Stop!” she yelled and slowly held out the thing in her hand so they could better see the compact recorder, the same type reporters commonly used. “I just want a word with the company commander of the Cartwright’s Cavaliers.” Even though she was shaken, she recovered her composure quickly.
“Sure,” Hargrave said, and the gun disappeared. “How about ‘Go. Away.’”
“That’s two words,” she said. “How about it, Mr. Cartwright?” She moved sideways, trying to get a clear view of Jim.
“It’s okay,” Jim said, “but no camera.”
“Great,” she said and put the device in her shoulder bag. Hargrave and Buddha looked at each other, then moved aside. Buddha looked even less thrilled than Hargrave. With a triumphant smile, she stepped forward.
“First, what’s your name?” he asked her.
“Melanie O’Donnell, Aetherwave Live.”
“Aethernet report, huh?” He gave her an appraising look. Young, not much older than him. Unlike a lot of Aethernet reporters, Aetherwave didn’t employ just anyone. A reporter needed to have real chops to get on their feed. “You get three questions,” Jim said, and glanced at the street, “or until our cab gets here.” She looked slightly deflated as she checked the street. No cabs were in sight at that moment. “Better ask quickly.”
“What’s the hurry, Mr. Cartwright?”
“We have plans tomorrow,” he said. She screwed up her face. “And that’s one question.” A hint of annoyance crossed her face.
“How did you manage to bring the Cavaliers back? You were broke! The bankruptcy took it all.”
“A foundation endowed the company with some starter funds. Not much, but enough. Last question.”
“Where’s the Cavaliers’ contract?”
“Off-world,” Jim said and winked just as an oversized cab pulled up. “Good afternoon, Ms. O’Donnell.” His men made sure he was the first on board and began piling in behind him. As the cab pulled away, Jim glanced back to see the reporter standing there, empty-handed and open-mouthed.
* * * * *
Chapter 13
Four Phoenix dropships squatted on the airport tarmac, baking in the Texas heat. Unfortunately for the hundred-odd people standing around, nothing was getting done. Hargrave and Jim had spent the last few hours finalizing arrangements to keep the museum and its trust operating while they were all off-world. Of all the things they expected to find when they arrived at the hangars, four dropships sitting idle was not one of them.
“What the fuck is going on?” Hargrave asked as he jumped out of the vehicle. The chief pilot, Jane Wheeler, stood next to a support truck with her other three pilots drinking sodas and looking annoyed.
“You tell me,” Jane replied. “We’re still waiting on transports to take the deployment supplies up to the Traveler.” She gestured to hundreds of pallets stacked outside the main operations hangar, loaders waiting next to them with their operators lounging as well.
“This was scheduled more than a week ago,” Jim said, accessing the plans through his pinplants and confirming what he already knew. He and the senior staff had set up the sc
hedules and turned everything over to logistics to plan and execute. “Where is Lieutenant Sommerkorn?” he asked. The chief logistics officer, Captain Zeamon, came over at a run.
“Commander, he’s at the main starport terminal.”
“What’s he doing there, when he should be here?” Captain Zeamon looked both upset and somehow amused.
“He’s trying to get us a heavy lifter.” Jim and Hargrave exchanged looks.
“Maybe you should explain in more detail?” Hargrave asked. Jim had to smile – Hargrave looked more than a little uncomfortable in his new uniform, a silver oak leaf for second-in-command on his shoulder. Jim felt more than a little conspicuous with a silver eagle on his.
“Well, Mr. Sommerkorn created a logistics plan that was incredibly complex and well laid out. It had every aspect and detail accounted for down to the last man-hour of loading and lift to orbit.”
“Then why do we have a few hundred tons of supplies sitting here cooking in the heat?” Hargrave asked.
“Because he was up late last night making a lot of revisions. He was sure if he kept working on it, he could cut the man-hours down and save some money. He fell asleep and never transmitted the lift orders to the contractor.” Jim and Hargrave exchanged a look again. The logistics chief looked like he wanted to crawl under a dropship and bury himself. Jim considered the situation. While amusing on the surface, they were going to quickly lose their launch window, and that could cost them their position at the stargate. Since Earth was such a small system, the stargate matched its importance. It only cycled once every twelve hours. You could order an expedited jump, but that was expensive with a capital E. In the end, he decided fuel was cheaper than time.
“Hargrave, get a platoon of men in the CASPers, we need to get this giant moveable feast in the air.”
“Yes, sir,” Hargrave said. “First Sergeant?” Murdock was standing a respectful distance away pretending not to listen.
“Sir?”
“Get a platoon armored up, loading detail. Combat deployment speed. Five minutes!”
“Yes, sir,” he said and saluted. “Sergeant Buddha!” The big man came ambling over. His uniform was slightly nonstandard; as in it was cutoffs and short sleeves. He liked the sun on his skin.
“Yes, First Sergeant?” he said, coming to casual attention and winking at Jim who grinned.
“Get your platoon armored up, loading detail. Combat deployment speed. Five minutes!”
“Yes, sir!” Buddha said, saluted, turned, and ran. Jim had never seen him run before. He was amazingly quick. “First Platoon, get in your armor! Move it, shovelheads!”
Jim had never watched the men do a combat deployment, and that was basically how they were treating it. The suits were hanging from their loading racks, no weapons or field gear. In a way, they were just super-heavy versions of the loaders used in starports. Smaller and weaker, but much tougher and faster. In less than five minutes, all twenty men and their platoon sergeant were in armor, including Murdock. The Phoenix dropships were manned, and their cargo doors open, noses popped and angled upwards allowing access from front, rear, and both sides all at once.
With incredible quickness and order, fifteen of the suited men began to grab crates and, using their jumpjets, bounded back and forth between the hangar and the ships. They would set the crates down and bound back, jumping higher than they had carrying the crates, thus passing over others coming toward the ships. The other seven formed a loading brigade with five passing crates between them up and into the ship, where the last two stowed them. It took just under ten minutes from the initial order to when the first Phoenix was fully loaded.
“Loaded and stowed,” Jane Wheeler called out from the open cockpit. Jim shielded his eyes as he looked up at her. She had her flight helmet on, and her copilot was in the seat above and behind her busily flipping switches.
“Boost for orbit,” Hargrave ordered. “Return ASAP after offload. The Traveler’s crew is waiting.”
“Aye, sir!” she said, and a second later the ship’s four hydrogen-powered lift fans spun to life. In a second, the drone became a yowl, then a scream. A moment later, it lifted off and angled down the tarmac in a storm of dust. Everyone on the ground either turned away or shielded their eyes. The dropship picked up speed down the runway until its forward momentum was enough to provide lift, then the fan’s power was ducted entirely out the rear. Full power was applied and Jane pulled back on her stick. With a thunderous roar the Phoenix turned its nose spaceward and shot into the blue. It was out of sight in seconds.
Back on the tarmac, the platoon was well into loading the second dropship. Jim marveled at how well they worked together, both smoothly and without wasted effort. Thinking back to the couple of times he’d donned the CASPers, he was coming to realize just how little he knew about the suits.
The second dropship was loaded much faster, the first one requiring some time to organize the effort. The third about the same as the second, and the last was quicker still, only holding their medical team, their equipment, and other non-combat personnel. As Phoenix 4 shot into the sky, multiple sonic shockwaves announced the return of Phoenix 1. Jim checked his time schedule. They were only a few minutes behind their planned launch time.
“As soon as number one touches down, get Second Platoon First Squad’s racks and personnel aboard.” Hargrave nodded. “We’re going to have to use ground loaders on the last squad,” he said and made a face. But Hargrave shook his head.
“Won’t work,” he said, “no way to fit them and troopers out of their suits.” Jim scrunched up his face as he used his pinplants to compare spaces. Hargrave was right, of course.
“Shit. We can’t leave any troopers behind; we’ll be under strength. I guess that means we’ll need another dropship to make a third run.”
“Just leave behind one of the CASPer racks,” Hargrave suggested. The racks were designed to hold the suits for quick donning by their wearers. Essential for quick deployment and easy maintenance. “We can maybe improvise something aboard the Traveler in route.”
“Okay,” Jim said, “I’ll go with that.” He gave the order, and as Phoenix 2 came in, Phoenix 1 was taking off with its cargo bay completely taken up by suits and racks. The next two were the same, as Phoenix 4 returned. “Everyone aboard, last squad stay in suits. Lock in deployment harness in the dropship, the rest of us will squeeze in.”
Hargrave went around to make sure each of the suited CASPers were locked into the frame built into the dropship bulkheads. With a couple dozen unarmored humans in the central area of the ship, if any of them came unstuck from the wall, people would die. The Phoenix had the room to carry an entire platoon of CASPers – the manual said as much. It also said the manufacturer strongly advised against it, just as it advised against carrying unprotected human cargo. Finally, everyone was aboard. Well, almost everyone.
“Sir,” Hargrave said, “what about Mr. Sommerkorn?” Jim looked surprised, in all the confusion and rush to load he’d completely forgotten about the overly-detailed logistics man.
“Can we operate on mission without him?” Hargrave laughed. “Right, okay. I guess he stays.”
“Terminate him?” Hargrave asked after giving the order to lift off. He had to yell, it was almost as loud inside the dropship as it had been outside when the craft took off. Jim reviewed the man’s record. He seemed a capable man. His fitness reports were accurate, though unbelievably wordy. His commanders’ only negative notes were things to the extent of “a little too detail-oriented.” Jim now thought he understood what that meant.
“Yes, please close his contract. Inform Personnel to put a letter of recommendation from me in his file and discharge him.” Jim shrugged. He figured the man would find a job in another company and maybe learn from his experience. Reviewing the deployment spreadsheet, this had only cost them a few hundred credits over the fees a heavy lifter would have run. Maybe it had been a useful exercise as well. He hoped the man would do well in his fu
ture endeavors.
Two hours later a cab pulled up to the hangar that had once been full of pre-deployment men, equipment, and combat gear. Lieutenant Chris Sommerkorn got out and looked at the hangar and lack of dropships in confusion. A few of Cartwright’s personnel were finishing stowing ground servicing equipment and doing other duties associated with putting the facility to bed until it was needed again. He walked over to one of them who looked curious to see one of the combat arm of the company show up, in uniform, when all the others were long gone.
“Excuse me,” Sommerkorn said, “uh...where did the company go?”
* * * * *
Chapter 14
As they were already behind schedule, the Traveler powered up her main drive and, as soon as the last dropship was locked in its cradle in the cruiser’s cavernous main bay, began thrusting out of orbit.
“Are we going to make it?” Jim asked Captain Winslow over the cargo hold’s squawk box. He and everyone else in view was holding onto whatever they could find as the huge ship quickly went from null gravity to over one gravity of acceleration.
“We’ll make her, Sah,” the man replied in his crisp British accent. “I’ll need to push her up to 3G once everything is secure aboard.”
Jim turned to Hargrave and Zeamon. “Can we offload safely in hyperspace?”
“No problem,” Hargrave said. Zeamon nodded in agreement.
“Captain, give us five minutes to get this gear secured and for us to get to our stations, then go to full thrust. We’ll finish unloading the equipment once we’re in hyperspace.”
“Understood,” the captain replied. A second later a claxon sounded, and a woman’s voice came over the PA.
“Attention all hands, acceleration in five minutes. Repeat, prepare for high gravity acceleration in five minutes.”