The Merrimack Event (Shieldclads Book 1)

by David Tatum

  “The same. I’m not entirely sure she won that battle because of her tactical ability, but she showed great courage. And, if our own fleet’s CO is as poor as McCaffrey was hinting, then she’s probably more than a match for him. I’m not looking forward to our chances.” He finished tying his shoelaces and stood up. “Ready to go?”

  Rachel paused for a moment, then laughed. “I am, but you aren’t,” she said, moving over to him. “Can’t you even dress yourself properly, Mr. Desaix?”

  “Huh?” he asked intelligently. Shaking her head and smiling, she casually reached out and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. “Hey, what are you—”

  Ignoring his protests, she pulled his shirt out from around his waist and unbuttoned the bottom three buttons, then buttoned them back up correctly. “There. Now, tuck your shirt back in – we’re late as it is, already.”

  Chris just blinked, and did as she said. What’s gotten into her? The Rache I know would never be so... presumptuous.

  ——————————

  Schubert frowned as he looked from side to side. He had intended to comm Rachel about Chris running late for the party, but now he himself was running late. Chris had just stepped into the shower when Schubert had been commed and ordered to report to Captain Morrison’s office ASAP. He figured he could comm them from Morrison’s office, but it was locked up tight and the Captain was nowhere to be seen. Now he wasn’t sure what was going on.

  On his way back to his quarters he noticed he was being followed. He couldn’t see by whom, but it didn’t matter. Someone didn’t impersonate an instructor at the Naval Academy just to be all nice and friendly. Schubert wasn’t sure what they wanted, but he didn’t think he should go back to his quarters; not until he knew their intentions. Instead, he slowly started making his way towards the places where there were usually crowds of fellow students.

  Unfortunately, most of the places he went were shut down. The senior cadet for each ship in the Wargame had followed the tradition of organizing a ‘meet and greet’ party for all of the cadets they’d be working with, and to encourage attendance at these parties all of the usual Academy hangouts had been closed. The MPs had also been called off their usual stations to make sure these parties didn’t get out of hand.

  Damn, Schubert thought. Not many more places to try. Rachel’s probably mad as hell at me right now – we should be at the party already and I never commed. Now there’s an idea – maybe I’ll be able to lose this idiot at the party.

  He picked up the pace, making his way in the direction of Orff’s party. He’d just about reached it when his pursuer – or, rather, pursuers – caught him.

  “Well, hello,” Schubert said casually, his mind racing as he tried to identify them. “I don’t believe we’ve met... but you all seem so anxious to talk to me. May I ask your names?”

  It wasn’t looking good. There were six of them, and they all looked big, tough, and dumb. Schubert figured he could handle two, maybe three of them, but against all six he was in serious trouble, and none of them looked like they could be talked down.

  The largest of them laughed. “You don’t need to know our names. You won’t be able to do anything with them when we’re through with you.”

  “Is that so?” he shot back with more confidence than he felt. “May I ask, then, just why you seem so upset with me?”

  “Does the name Joel Farmburg mean anything to you?” the thug asked.

  Schubert’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. He’s the jackass who was mouthing off about a couple of my friends.”

  “You put him in the hospital!” one of the other musclemen snapped.

  “And we’re here to return the favor,” the first one finished, smirking.

  Schubert grinned back, cracking his knuckles. “Is that so? Well, if you are, then how about I take a few of you with me?”

  He waited for the first punch – not only would that give him a hole through which to counterattack, but he didn’t want anyone to call him the instigator of this fight. He’d gotten into enough trouble after the bar fight, despite the fact he’d been outnumbered there, too.

  Schubert leaned to the side avoiding the massive fist heading for his jaw. He felt the breeze of its passing, but didn’t have any time to worry about it. Instead, he concentrated on his own attack, grabbing the shoulder attached to that fist. He pulled on it for leverage as he leapt forward, sending a flying knee into the brute’s gut and following up by dropping an elbow onto the back of the man’s head.

  The first man went down quickly, but there were still five others. Schubert briefly considered making a break for it – he was only a couple hundred yards away from the clearing where the party tents had been set up – but he knew he’d never make it. Just to try, he’d have to give up the initiative and allow them into his blind spot, so his best chance was still to stand and fight. Taking a couple of steps back in order to keep all six of his attackers in his line of sight, he crouched down in preparation for a charge.

  “Hey, is this a private beating or can anyone join in?” a female voice interrupted. Schubert turned his head slightly to see two young women watching them. Schubert vaguely recognized the one in front. Her name was Lauren Weber, and – at least for the next few weeks – she would be his crewmate on the Chihuahua.

  “Get the hell out of here,” one of the thugs growled. “This is our affair.”

  Weber smiled menacingly. “No.”

  The two women moved in, taking flanking positions around Schubert. The thugs opposing them stood somewhat confused for a moment, before the big man Schubert had dropped earlier gasped, “Get them, you idiots!”

  They ran in, and Schubert met them head-on. Weber and her friend were right beside him. They don’t stand a chance – I’d better finish this fast, Schubert thought as he tackled one and started pounding on him. Once he was sure the man he was facing was out, he leapt up to deal with the other thugs... to see them running away from the two girls as if their lives depended on it. He stopped, and looked at them.

  Weber smirked at him and held out her hand to help him up. “Hi. Your name is Wolfgang Schubert, right?”

  Wow, Schubert thought. She’s something else!

  ——————————

  If Chris couldn’t believe Rachel’s behavior in his dorm room, then Rachel had an even harder time with it. Why had she just grabbed at him like that? She couldn’t puzzle it out. She should have just told him to button the shirt up properly, and left him to handle that job on his own. Maybe hanging around with him was getting to her.

  She distracted herself by wondering where Schubert had gone off to. If he had said he would comm her about the delay, she felt certain he would have. She knew him well enough to believe he was a reliable sort of person, and his absence was definitely out of character for him.

  She had suggested to Chris that the two of them look around for their missing friend before heading to the party, and so far they’d checked most of the routes they figured he might have taken to her dorm room. Failing to find him anywhere, Rachel suggested they go back to his quarters and check to see if Schubert had returned while they were out looking.

  “Damn it,” Chris cursed, still seeing no Schubert and no note. “Just what the hell is going on around here?”

  Rachel shook her head, obviously just as concerned. “Your guess is as good as mine. Do you want to keep up the search or what?”

  Chris sighed. “The only place left I can think to check is the party itself. This isn’t like him at all, though, and it worries me.”

  Rachel put a comforting hand on his arm and squeezed. She had only known Schubert for a few weeks, but she’d found his absence strange as well. Chris’ strong reaction to his disappearance only served to confirm her own feelings that something was wrong. It was possible they were just blowing it out of proportion, however.

  “He’ll be all right,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Hey, for all we know he found a girl and has forgotten all
about us.”

  ——————————

  Schubert frowned. “I dunno... I guess they already left for the party,” he said. “I just keep getting the automated messenger service when I call.”

  “Did you really expect them to be waiting for you three hours after you said you’d meet them?” Lauren Weber asked, rolling her eyes. “They’re probably at the party, themselves, already. Where I’d like to be. By the way, I want a dance for saving your ass back there, you know.”

  Schubert rolled his eyes, even though he didn’t really object to dancing with the rather attractive girl who had, as she put it, saved his ass. However, there were more important things at the moment. “You don’t understand. I haven’t shown up, so they’re going to be out looking for me. If they happen to follow my steps, they might instead find... oh, never mind – here they are.”

  “Hey!” an outraged cry rose from behind the two girls. There stood a rather angry Christopher Desaix and one somewhat amused Rachel Katz – exactly the opposite of how Schubert was expecting them to be at any given moment. They both had a palpable sense of relief on their faces, as well, however.

  “Chris! Rache! I was just trying to comm you.”

  “Is that so?” Rachel said doubtfully. “And why didn’t you earlier? Did you forget all about us thanks to your new friends, here?”

  Schubert, gesturing with his hands, started to lead the small group to Orff’s party. “First, let me introduce Lauren Weber and... Linda Flint, was it? They just saved my ass from being pummeled.”

  “Hi,” Weber waved, smiling crookedly. “Cadet Lieutenant Lauren Weber, at your service. Always happy to help out a friend, and given we’re both going to be helmsmen on the Chihuahua, I’m pretty sure Wolfie and I will become great friends. This is a buddy of mine from my civilian life, and now our fellow crewman, Chief Petty Officer Trainee Linda Flint.”

  “Yo,” Flint chimed in.

  Chris blinked. “You were attacked?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t recognize any of them, but they claimed they were friends of that jackass, Joel Farmburg. Big brutes, all of them.”

  “I recognized one of them,” Flint replied hesitantly. “At least, I think I did. Seaman Trainee Jefferson Flay, from my Environmental Engineering class. I believe both he and Mr. Farmburg are designated for Academy service aboard the Heavy Cruiser Natsugumo. At least, if he really was Flay – I didn’t get a good look at him.”

  “Hmm,” Rachel said, no longer quite so amused about Schubert having been ‘distracted’ by not one, but two young women. “So what really happened?

  “Basically, it was an ambush. I got a message to meet at Captain Anne Morrison’s office ASAP, and it seemed to be authentic. She wasn’t there, though – Lauren tells me she’s already aboard her transport bound for the Wargame sector, so it must have been a forgery. When I got to Morrison’s office and realized I’d been set up, I started to try and comm you, but I couldn’t get through. It was then that I noticed I was being followed.”

  “And you led them here,” Rachel concluded.

  “Well, I was running around in search of a group of people I could get lost in, first. I would have commed you at the first chance, I promise,” Schubert apologized.

  Chris smiled. “You’re off the hook, this time. Next time you’re going to go out unexpectedly, though, leave a note for God’s sake!”

  “Yes, sir!” Schubert replied, laughing as he parodied a salute. “I’ll be certain you know where I am at all times.”

  “Good,” Chris said, nodding. “Now, you might want to tell the MPs about the forged orders. Maybe they can track them back to those bozos.”

  “We can’t prove they started the fight,” Linda pointed out. “What’s the point? Let’s just enjoy the party. By the time we get back from the Wargame, all of this will have blown over.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Rachel snapped. “A crime has been committed here. We have a possible identification of one attacker. It’s also very likely there’ll be some DNA evidence as to who the others are, if we get the MPs here in time.”

  “Rache,” Chris said calmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You aren’t thinking clearly. Schubert had his fight in a public thoroughfare, so there’s bound to be an extensive amount of DNA contamination. Worse, he was recently in a bar fight, and was labeled its instigator.”

  “But that’s my point!” Rachel exclaimed. “They could claim they were the attacked party, if they get to the MPs first. And, from what I’ve seen, it looks like Wolf did most of the beating – if he makes the accusation first, it’ll be his word against theirs.”

  “They won’t say anything,” Flint remarked. “There were six of them vs. one of him. And Lauren and I will testify to that fact. They know better than to assume they’ll get the benefit of the doubt in this case. It’s a case where it could go either way no matter who reports it, so it’s best just to drop it.”

  Rachel looked around her stubbornly, hoping for support from someone. She had none. “I don’t like it. They can still find out who was pretending to be Captain Morrison, and if Joel or his friends were willing to go to those lengths already, who knows what they’ll do now.”

  “There, I definitely agree with you. Not that you’ll ever hear me say those words again, mind,” Chris said playfully. “But I don’t think the MPs will be of any help at this point. The only thing they might try is backtracking that forged comm signal, but with everything else going on right now they’re not likely to consider it a high priority. They won’t even try until the Wargame is over, and by then any evidence will be gone. I also doubt Farmburg, Flay, or any of their cronies will try anything else any time soon. There’s just not enough time for them to set something up between now and when we leave.”

  Rachel glared at him, wrinkling her nose. “And so we should just ignore it in the meantime?”

  “No,” Chris answered. “But I don’t see contacting the MPs as helping more than they’ll hurt. We keep our eyes and ears open, though, and if there’s any chance one of us might encounter Farmburg’s goons, we make sure we never do it alone. I’ll try to come up with a plan, but please don’t do something so counterproductive in the meantime.”

  Schubert grimaced. “There you two go again. I guess the truce is over, huh?”

  Chris and Rachel looked at each other, and suddenly Chris chuckled. “Well,” he replied. “I’d hardly say that. If the truce was over, we’d be fighting tooth and nail. This is just a friendly disagreement.”

  Weber raised an eyebrow. “I can tell being on a ship with you three will be an interesting experience indeed.”

  PART II: ZWISCHENZUG

  CHAPTER VI

  Sol System, Earth, Nicolai Tesla Conference Center

  Kimiko Beccera smiled as she stepped into the room. Finally, after months of petitioning, she was being allowed into the inner sanctum where the members of the Pleiades Expedition were meeting. Now she was going to be part of that expedition, herself.

  “Ah, I see we have a newcomer in our midst,” someone said upon seeing her. “Dr. Beccera, I understand?”

  Beccera reached out and shook the other woman’s hand in greeting. “Yes, but please, call me Kim. And you are?”

  “Dr. Angel Carter. I suppose if I call you Kim, I’d better let you call me Angie.” She grinned. “I’m the project coordinator for this little expedition, as well as the chief linguist. Please, come in. Since this is only the second time the whole expedition has gathered, we figured we’d start by simply reviewing the complete preliminary report of the Pleiades Dig. Most of us have only received censored copies, to date.”

  Beccera frowned. “Censored?”

  “Surely you don’t think that the only reason we’re launching this massive expedition is to study some math symbols we’ve already seen?” Angel asked. “That may have been the biggest discovery, but it wasn’t the only one.”

  “Biggest discovery my ass!” a male voice from behind her said.

 
; Angel rolled her eyes and sighed. Stepping aside to make room, she gestured behind her, where a trio of other scientists were gathered.

  “Dr. Beccera,” Angel said formally. “I’d like to introduce you to three of our fellow researchers on this project. You’ll probably find them more interesting than me, since I’m just a simple linguist, and they’re all xenoanthropologists like yourself. This is Dr. Phillip Heinlein, who will be heading your department.” Kimiko shook hands with the man. “Next to him is Dr. Mara Sommers.”

  Kimiko froze. She knew that name. “The same Dr. Mara Sommers who discovered that alien starship some years back?”

  Mara nodded, and sighed. “Yes, I’m the one. I just wish there had been at least one alien body with it, though, so we would at least know what the people who flew it looked like.”

  “We can cut it down, easily,” the third, as yet un-introduced person said. Kimiko recognized his voice as the same one which had interrupted Dr. Carter earlier. “From the configuration of various instruments, seating arrangements, and even bathroom facilities we know they were a bipedal species. One which had opposable thumbs... in other words, very similar to humanoids.”

  “That doesn’t really limit it down much, though,” Dr. Heinlein complained. “We’ve found remains that indicate there were bipedal species similar to humanoids in many ruins of once-space-faring societies. We aren’t saying that all intelligent species were humanoids, mind, but it appears humanoids intermingled with pretty much every space-faring society. Of course any ship built would contain facilities for them.”

  “Makes sense,” Kimiko agreed. “But it’s good to know that the ship is consistent with that theory. While humanoids may not be ‘surprising,’ it does cut down some possibilities as Doctor... I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

  Dr. Carter gave a long-suffering sigh. “Well, I suppose we should introduce him, too. Dr. Kimiko Beccera, meet Dr. Frank Orwell. He’s been on his part of the project longer than anyone else, and he’s come to believe his studies are more important then any of the other scientific teams’ concerns.”