by RJ Johnson
He grunted in approval, they’d certainly be able to brainwash this kid into following orders. It was time to see if they had actually taught him anything.
“What does she take in her coffee?”
“Sir?” the cadet’s eyes darted back over to the captain.
“I ask a question cadet, I expect an answer,” he said sharply. “What does Ambassador Corcoran take in her coffee?”
“I… I do not know sir.”
“What is Ambassador Corcoran allergic to?” he asked.
“I do not know sir.”
“What time does Ambassador Corcoran retire? What time does she wake? When does she take her afternoon tea? Who are her confidants? And who will she need to avoid at parties?”
Fear finally touched the young cadet’s eyes as it began to dawn on him just how little he knew of his new assignment. He looked down in shame, “I do not know sir.”
The cadet had to know the price of failure – he would be quickly transferred to a post far away from anywhere he might find an actual career. In fact, the captain had nearly found himself in the wilderness like that years ago, so he was sympathetic to the cadet’s situation.
“If you do not know anything about Ambassador Corcoran and what she will require from you, how do you expect to be an effective body man for her?” he didn’t raise his voice or change his tone, he only held the boy’s gaze in his, as an expectant teacher would for a star pupil.
The cadet’s body stiffened at the perceived challenge, “I am sure the necessary information will be provided for me when I arrive on Mars.”
“Wrong,” the captain said harshly, slamming his fist on the desk. “You are expected to know all these things and more by the time we arrive. That is what I am here for. You will serve as my cabin boy for the next six weeks and through this, you shall learn how to be an effective aide de camp for the Ambassador. The academy may have ingrained discipline and how to kill a man six different ways with your thumbs, but failing to gather any real intelligence on your subject demonstrates just how completely unprepared you are for your new assignment. The second you fail, I guarantee you will find yourself on a deep space transport quicker than you can say, ‘My apologies Ma’am.’ Are you reading me Cadet?”
Cadet Cooper stared straight ahead, “Sir, whatever you require, I am at your disposal.”
He grunted in satisfaction. “Good. I have a dossier on Ambassador Corcoran that I’ve used to train her body men in the past. Some of whom, have gone onto great things - including more than one who captain their own fast attack ship. But be warned Cadet, those who fail are never heard from again.”
The cadet swallowed nervously and Gonzalez was satisfied that he had put the fear of God into the young cadet for one day, “My XO will provide all the information you need for your assignment. I expect you to know everything about the Ambassador backwards and forwards by the time we arrive. Everything. Are we clear?”
“Crystal sir,” Cadet Cooper said stiffly.
“I will also have you adopt her schedule and perform all the activities laid out in the dossier as they are expected of you when you arrive on Mars. Unfortunately, we do not have all the facilities you will require, but I will be satisfied if you can demonstrate the ability to complete those tasks.”
“Sir!”
“I also understand that you’re acting as a courier for the Ambassador?”
The cadet’s eyes remained staring straight ahead and did not answer. The captain grunted, chuckled a bit and nodded.
“Good answer,” he said. “Quickest way to get yourself killed is by telling people how important you are. Considering this is my tub and nothing goes on here that I don’t know about, rest assured, I want no part of it. Coalition seems to think they can solve all their troubles on Mars if they just give their people bigger and better weapons. I think the Last War proved how stupid that line of thinking was.”
The cadet continued to say nothing, staring straight ahead at the bulkhead in the captain’s office. The kid was carrying some dangerous stuff, and it was important that no one knew about it – something the captain was doing his best to impress upon the young cadet.
“You keep your mouth shut about that data while on this ship.”
“Sir, I can neither confirm, nor deny…”
The weary captain got up from his chair and clasped his hand on the young Cadet’s shoulders. “Stow it. I’m not interested. Besides, you have more important things to worry about and by the time we get to Mars I intend to have you ready for anything the old bitch might throw your way.”
The Cadet nodded.
“Good. Dismissed.”
The Cadet turned on his heel and swiftly exited the captain’s Ready Room. He settled back behind his desk and felt the massive transport ship’s engines engage lifting them off from the lunar landscape. The Higgs field compensators kicked in and the inertia of their journey quickly faded. He watched as the lunar soil faded away from view and the ship began accelerating for its long journey towards Mars.
His last departure should have had more pomp and circumstance to it, he idly thought. Seems a shame to go out with a whimper like this…
3.
The six week voyage between the Homeworld and Mars passed quickly on board the Madera. Cadet Cooper proved to be a quick study and when he wasn’t assisting the Captain, sleeping or eating, he was in his quarters studying. Captain Gonzalez spent most of the trip packing up his office and quarters, marking each box for its eventual destination to his new home on the Martian range.
He looked around his quarters - a place where he had spent the better part of the last twenty years. After packing everything away, his room now seemed empty and alien as opposed to the warm bedroom and office that he had called home for so long.
However, the second he closed the last box and taped it shut, he knew it was time. He had been on the Madera long enough and had served the Coalition well. After transporting several hundred thousand new colonists safely over the years between the Homeworld and Mars, who could ask him for anything more? He had led a good life. That’s all anyone could ask really of a man like him.
He stared at a photo taken when he had first been brought onboard the Madera as XO. Someone much younger and with a lot more hair looked up at him with a broad smile.
“Too many memories…” he said softly.
“Sir?” Cadet Cooper stood and turned toward the captain who waved him off.
“Captain’s prerogative to mutter to himself cadet,” he said with a smile. He looked over the boy’s work and nodded in approval. His belongings were tightly stowed away and marked in clear print for the men and women who would be charged with moving it safely to his new home on the Martian plains.
The cadet was more relaxed, eager and ready for whatever Mars or the Ambassador might throw at him. The time spent studying and talking with the captain had done him well. He would never admit this to his classmates, but, the old man had taught him more about what it meant to be a Coalition officer than the twelve years he spent growing up in the academy had accomplished.
The cadet’s flexible computer that sat on his left forearm flashed with a message for the captain. He opened it and read the message, “Sir, XO reports that we’re ten minutes away from our initial entry burn for landing at the Martian Spaceport.”
Gonzalez sighed and he replaced the photo and closed the last box, stacking it neatly along with the others.
“No rest for the weary cadet. Scrub up and prepare for landing. As I understand it, as soon as we land you’re to be transported to the Ambassador to begin your duties immediately. I’ll have other things to attend to, so it’s possible we may not get a chance to see each other again until you’re running the whole damn Coalition,” he said, winking at the young man.
He watched the cadet’s shoulders stiffen with pride. He stood at attention and gave the sharpest salute of his life to the old captain. Gonzalez was happy to see that the next new generation Coalition officers w
ouldn’t all be a bunch of entitled young punks. Cooper had showed the kind of initiative and hard work that was becoming rare among his peers.
“You’ll do well son. Keep your head low, focus on your goals and you’ll get there sooner than you think. I’ve nothing more to teach you.”
“Aye, captain,” Cooper said. He turned on his heel and left his quarters.
He watched the boy leave and he moved towards the bridge. He arrived and the XO stood at attention, “Captain on deck!”
“As you were.” He had decided that protocol could go to hell during the last hour of his command. He was the captain and he’d decide the bloody protocol if he damn well wanted to. Besides, if he was really about to become a civilian, he may as well get used to the idea of people not jumping to attention every time he walked through the door.
The XO walked up to him and handed him a personal tablet, “Sir, minimal damage taken on the voyage. All whipple shields report green across the board.”
“No micrometeorite storms?” he asked smiling. “The Gods graced me with an easy last one.”
“The wrench monkeys on Mars won’t have too much work to do,” his XO commented.
“That’s just what they want you to think,” he said. “When you’re in command you’ll need to make sure they keep her looking good enough to eat off the hull, otherwise those wrench monkeys will think their good enough is the same as your good enough.”
His XO looked shocked, “Sir, there’s tons more qualified people out there that…”
He waved her off, “Stow it. I’ve already put in my rec for you to take over this tub. The crew knows and respects you Gina. The command is yours if you want it, so take the damn compliment already.”
“Aye sir,” Usher replied, touched. He had always been rough on her, to the point where she probably thought he wasn’t confident with her behind the conn. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“XO, what’s this?” he pointed to a red flag on his ArmBar display of the Madera. “Who’s opening up airlock hatches an hour away from landing?”
The XO looked at her left-handed ArmBar and called up a status display of the ship. Sure enough, a red flag marked where someone had accessed a service airlock hatch.
“Port side, aft, service door 553 was opened fifteen minutes ago,” Usher called out. “I called down to engineering to take a look, but I haven’t gotten a response yet.”
“No time like the present XO,” he said. Gina Usher nodded.
“Chief of the Boat,” Usher called out, “Get me engineering and request an update on that hatch before we begin our initial burn for orbit.”
“Aye sir,” Chief of the Boat Graham Snider said, punching up the comm channel for Engineering. “Engineering, Conn, that hatch that’s red flagging our landing, can you give us a status on it?”
Silence answered him. Snider tried again, “Engineering, Conn, come in.”
No one answered and Captain Gonzalez leaned forward, wondering what the hell was going on in his ship. He stepped up and grabbed the comm out of the COB’s hands.
“Engineering, Conn, this is the Captain, someone down there answer me!”
No one complied. The captain suddenly felt like he had swallowed Styrofoam. There was always someone available to answer a call from the bridge in engineering. If they weren’t talking back, something had likely gone very wrong.
“XO, get down to engineering and find out why they’re not answering. Chief of the Boat, slow to station keeping and inform the Martian Spaceport that we will be arriving late.”
“Aye sir,” Snider said and issued the orders, the crew springing into action.
He looked at his ArmBar display again and zoomed in on the service hatch. There were no vital systems around the area, at least, nothing that caused him any concern. The hatch was located near the folded passenger compartments between decks four and five, and the main beam of the ship. He sat back and tried to think of what might be happening to his ship.
Coalition and Consortium forces were supposedly at peace, but, like many old warriors from the Last War era, he never fully trusted the armistice between the two major powers still jockeying for control over humanity. The Consortium was not above sabotaging civilian carriers as a form of terrorism to make a point against the Coalition. The likelihood that they were suddenly getting froggy with his tub was unlikely, but still, he hadn’t lived this long by assuming things.
“Chief, get me a visual on that hallway.”
Snider moved and pushed a few buttons as he transferred the video feed to the Captain’s ArmBar. He scrolled through the feed looking for who or what may have opened up the hatch. He couldn’t see anything in the corridor. He ran the feed back and forth between the time when the hatch was opened and now.
He watched the hatch and airlock swing open. But, there was nothing that appeared on the monitor that could explain it. He ran through the feed back and forth straining to see anything that might make sense when a quick flash caught his eye.
No, that can’t be… he thought to himself. They destroyed the entire inventory of camotech after the Last War.
“Sir!” an excited voice called out from the other side of the bridge, “You need to see this!”
“On my feed,” he ordered. The radar officer fed the high priority signal to his ArmBar and he examined the image. A ship was hovering close to the Madera’s engines, attempting to stay unseen in one of the ship’s many blind spots.
“What the hell?” he leaned forward, his eyes crinkling and stared at the mysterious ship on the viewscreen, “Where the hell did they come from? Get me a match on that ship’s type on the scanners and hail them!”
“What should I say?” the ensign looked up at him alarmed.
“Warn them off goddammit!”
“Captain!” the Chief of the Boat pointed at the monitor that displayed the hallway with the unlocked service hatch. The XO opened the door connecting the main beam of the ship and the passenger compartments. Gina Usher moved cautiously into the hallway, aiming her ArmBar’s light into the cramped crawlspace.
“Chief, get on the horn and tell her I think we got ourselves a boarding party,” he said, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth.
His mind raced and he struggled to think of who might be audacious enough to attack his ship. The Warlords of Mars wouldn’t dare attack a Coalition ship, and the Consortium couldn’t be bothered unless they had a larger offensive in mind.
“Is the channel open to the vessel?”
His communications officer nodded, and Gonzalez cracked the mic.
“Unknown Vessel, you are in violation of Coalition and Consortium treaties on space piracy. Divert now, or you will be fired upon.”
“Captain!” Snider’s voice was high and he glanced over at what had alarmed his chief so much. On the display showing the hallway where his XO was, he watched helplessly as she was cut down by a mysterious force, her throat slashed with a knife that had come from nowhere.
“General Alarm!” he snapped to his crew. He handed the comm back to the communications officer, “Get on the horn to New Plymouth and have them send backup now.”
His crew sprang into action and he watched them all execute his orders flawlessly. His communications officer hailed the mysterious vessel and ordered them out of the Madera’s fly zone or to prepare to be fired upon.
Snider moved to the bridge’s armory and began tossing out attachments for every crewmember’s ArmBar. The Growler was an offensive weapon that could be attached to any style of ArmBar a crewmember might be wearing and designed to shoot several hundred thousand volts in a high pulse rates that would instantly incapacitate (or kill depending on its setting) whoever was in its path. It got its name from the low growling noise it made every time you fired.
He whirled and began running towards the aft section as he called over his shoulder, “Chief, you have the Conn! I’ll get Usher. You get us on the hard pack ASAP, you hear me?”
“Aye
Captain!” Snider called out.
He moved with purpose down the hallway and towards the elevator that would take him down to where his XO was currently bleeding out. He stayed calm as he passed his crew in hallway, hoping that his demeanor would inspire confidence among the worried faces of his crew. Whatever was happening, he wouldn’t let his career end with the death of his XO.
Suddenly, his ship shuddered and he was thrown to the ground as the distant echo of an explosion reverberated through his vessel. Dazed, he sat back up confused for a moment and thinking that he was back in the Last War, his ship under attack by Consortium forces.
He shook himself back to reality. No, that wasn’t right, he was on his ship and there was peace between the two nations. This had to be someone else, someone with firepower and the will to use it.
The comm on his ArmBar chirped and he pushed himself back up on his feet. The comm chirped again and he answered it.
“Captain!” Cadet Cooper’s frightened face appeared on his screen.
“Cadet, I don’t have time for a lesson at the moment,” he said. “Stick to your quarters and keep your head…”
“Sir!” the cadet interrupted him as another blast shook them both, “They’re trying to get in here!”
“What? Who?”
“When General Alarm sounded, I locked myself in my quarters per protocol, but someone is on the other side of my door trying to break in!”
“Stay put Cadet! We’re on our way!”
He pushed himself harder and moved towards the cadet’s quarters, close to the open hatch where he had been heading. This wasn’t about his ship, this was about that cadet and the information he held on his ArmBar. If he didn’t get to him before the boarding party did, he hated to think what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands.
A third explosion rocked the hallway and he heard the decompression alarm. Whoever it was out there was beating his ship to hell.
He opened his ArmBar, “Conn, Captain here, status!”