by Doug Hoffman
“I sure hope that little guy makes it,” Bud said, gazing after the vanished maintenance troll.
“Amen to that, brother,” Rick said. The problem was now beyond their control.
Plaza, Shopping Mall
Hitch and Jacobs had dropped Kashi off at Dr. de Bruin's makeshift medical station, just off the main plaza. The Doc didn't say much but the chiefs could tell Kashi's condition was serious. He put the wounded sailor into a drug induced coma and flooded his system with nanites, saying only that he needed immediate medivac to the ship.
Since there was nothing else they could do, the two old shipmates went out into the plaza to see the Lieutenant. They had listened in to the conversation between JT and the Captain, hearing the Captain's decision to take out the Karf's spire.
“I figure this dust up is about over, Stevie.”
“Yeah, Matt, this was a tough one. Can't remember a bigger pooch screw in years.”
“We won.”
“Yeah, but it cost us, man. I heard the Marine's lost a couple KIA.”
“I just hope that Kashi didn't buy the farm …hey, what's that?” Jacobs pointed toward the transparent wall of the spire.
“It looks like one of those little yellow guys, what's it doing outside the station without a suit?” They watched the whooboo rising, moving away from the station.
A blinding flash illuminated the Starflake. The sailors' helmets darkened to save their eyesight, then slowly regained transparency. Outside the spire, the whooboo was gone.
Chapter 41
Pinnace, 4,000 km from the Starflake
The object of their search was barely visible ahead of them, its pitch black exterior more noticeable by the stars it occluded than by the light reflecting off it. On the flight deck of the Captain's pinnace Lt. Pauline Palmer was at the controls with Master Chief Frank Zackly riding right seat. The Chief worked the comm.
“Ahoy the ship.”
After a brief silence there came a reply.
“It's about bloody time, Master Chief.”
The old Chief smiled widely, an unusual occurrence.
“Sorry, Commander. Took us a bit to figure out which way you were headed.”
Inside the all but dead Kestrel, Cmdr. Beth Melaku stirred and peered out through the fighter's small windscreen. She could almost make out the outline of Peggy Sue's smallest shuttle.
“You want us to come and get you out of that bird?”
“No, thank you. I've enough reserve power to get back to the ship, if you would be so kind as to give me a tow.” The fighter had lost power when it was hit by fire from the alien frigate some five hours ago. Using the Kestrel's attitude gyros she had managed to stabilize the fighter and had been tapping the gyros for power to keep the cabin heat on since. Another six hours and she would have frozen to death inside her already dead fighter.
“Aye, aye, Ma'am. Give us a few minutes to rig a tow line and we'll head back to the ship.”
“Roger that, Master Chief. Wake me when we get there.”
Sickbay, Peggy Sue
Dr. Belinda White surveyed the controlled chaos of her normally empty medical section. The arrival of shuttles from the nearby space station changed her usually quiet routine as casualties from the battle streamed in. She had already operated on one of the sailors with a bad plasma weapon wound, but most of the casualties were Marines.
The entire 1st squad, at least those who survived, had received a potentially fatal dose of radiation from an antimatter explosion. All had been stripped and washed before being moved into the sickbay. Since the Marines had all been wearing armor there was no threat of surface contaminants, but there were other reasons to wash the victims. Since even high-dose radiation exposure is generally not lethal within the initial two weeks, emergent medical care took precedence over assessment of the degree of exposure. Several were treated for bruising and trauma, but thankfully there were no other wounds.
It had been more than eight hours since they were exposed and symptoms were starting to present themselves. Though varying from patient to patient, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, abdominal cramping and/or bleeding, fatigue, and fever were observed. Betty didn't think that the amount of exposure recorded by the Marines' suit instruments was invariably fatal, but she had the medical staff monitoring for signs of lymphopenia or decline of absolute lymphocyte count to dangerous levels. As a precaution they were in the process of transfusing all of the stricken Marines with synthetic blood and administering enhanced nanite injections.
Betty looked across the ward and saw the Captain walking toward her. Puting on her best professional doctor's face she greeted her friend and commanding officer. “Hello, Captain.”
“Is it that bad, Doctor?”
“I didn't say anything yet.”
“You never call me 'captain' unless there's bad news.”
“It could be better, but it could have been much worse. The crewman that was wounded should make a complete recovery. I replaced his damaged ribs with demineralized bone matrix and, after removing all the necrotic tissue, reprinted muscle and dermis layers using cultures from his own body. He should fully recover in five days to a week.”
“And the Marines?”
“According to their suits they took between two and three grays of radiation. At that level of exposure radiation-induced damage to hematopoietic stem and progenitor cells is reversible. With judicious used of transfusions, regeneration should result in the production of adequate numbers of functionally normal neutrophils and platelets within a few days to a week. Non-hematopoietic stem cell transplant scenarios are dependent on other injuries: cerebrovascular, gastrointestinal, and cutaneous syndromes, as well as radiation-induced lung injury and other trauma.”
“You lost me at 'three grays', Doc.”
“Sorry, doctor speak. A gray unit is the international measure of radiation exposure, the same as a hundred rads old school. Blood and the tissues that produce red and white blood cells are most susceptible to exposure. We will use transfusions and stem cell treatments to restore healthy blood composition in each patient. If there are other damaged organs we'll fix them along the way as well. Barring any complications, they should be ready for discharge within two weeks.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I'll leave you and your people to it then.”
As the Captain left the ward he could swear he heard one of the stricken Marines mumble something about 'monkey sex'. He passed it off as delirium.
Captain's Quarters
Two days after the end of hostilities, the four principle partners gathered in the sitting room of the Captain's quarters. The ship was no longer at general quarters and the officers were enjoying a well deserved libation. Billy Ray and Bobby were drinking Wild Turkey, Beth Hendrick's Gin, and Mizuki some concoction made with rum and tropical fruit juices.
“Here's to absent comrades,” the Captain intoned, raising his glass.
“Absent comrades,” the others repeated. They all drank. Tradition observed they got down to the business at hand.
“What's the status of the crew and Marines, Number One?”
“All present or accounted for. We have three killed in action and eleven in hospital. JT is still down on the station, dealing with the natives—you know how those Green Beret types love to work with indigenous peoples. 2nd Squad is also on the Starflake continuing to patrol and search for any surviving hostiles.”
The Captain nodded, acknowledging the report.
“You've been to sick bay most recently, what is the prognosis for the Marines, Dear?” Beth asked her husband.
“I talked to Betty and she says all the wounded will recover. The wounded sailor, Kashimawo Ademola, in a week and the Marines will be fit for limited duty in two. Dr. de Bruin has asked to return to the station so he can treat any wounded among the residents. What about material losses?”
“Other than munitions expended we lost one Kestrel to enemy action.”
“I see. We were fortunate to get off so
lightly.”
“I wouldn't call it lightly,” Beth said with a frown. “Three KIA and eleven wounded is a pretty stiff butcher’s bill.”
“When you consider that every engagement the Marines fought they were outnumbered by at least two to one, I think we got off lucky,” Bobby observed. “Even the sailors acquitted themselves well.”
Beth sat stiffly, staring at the drink in her hands. “You forget that I managed to lose half of my unit and rendered it 100% combat ineffective by the end of the engagement.”
“Sweetheart, two of you took on a score of enemy fighters and still managed to take out the troop carriers they were protecting. Hell, you took out an enemy frigate single handed. I'd say that ranks more as brilliant success than tragic failure.”
“I lost my wingman. I've never lost a wingman before.”
“I was in command. In addition to Lt. Hoenig, I also lost two Marines: Private Ben-Ezra and Corporal Inuksuk. I don't think anyone's ever lost a polar bear in combat before. Every death, every casualty is on me—it was my decision to fight instead of running.”
In a quiet voice Mizuki spoke. “You are being too hard on yourselves. Exploring the galaxy is a risky business; people die, often by accident. In this case we fought and died for a purpose.”
“It doesn't change the fact that under my command we shot up half the station while wiping out the Uxoreeza fleet and exterminating the Karf. Like Agricola said, we make a desolation and call it peace.”
“I prefer Saint Matthew,” said Bobby. “'Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God.' If we'd have abandoned the station its inhabitants would have been slaughtered and the Uxoreeza would have regained control of the antimatter cache. Who knows how many deaths on how many worlds that would have contributed to. The way I see it, Frank and the others died warriors' deaths fighting for a just cause, fighting ultimately for peace.”
“Perhaps yer right, pardner. I guess we should be thankful for our victory.”
Beth sighed. “I suppose Bobby's right, but I'm still going to get totally pissed once this meeting is over.”
“I think we all deserve to tie one on, honey bunch. But before we get too drunk to think we need to decide what we're gonna do next.”
Beth forced a smile and looked at her friends. “We bloody well paid for this place, I say we keep it.”
Relieved that the conversation had taken a turn for the hopeful, Mizuki seized on Beth's thought. “There is certainly much to be learned studying the Starflake. Such an old entity can not only fill in important historical information, the station's technology is highly advanced in many areas.”
“You're right, Mizuki-chan. I say we set up a permanent station here. After all, there's plenty of empty space, particularly once the ex-Karf spire gets repaired.”
“Well that's three in favor of staying. I make it unanimous. This is going to take a lot of planning, people.”
“Hai, we should plant Earth crops in the agricultural section above the Shopping Mall. And we can convert the condominium apartments into quarters.”
“What's more, the ship has enough fabrication units and manufacturing capability we can crank out anything we need.” As Bobby spoke he became more animated. “All we need is raw material and energy, both of which the station has in spades. Given time we could probably make a second ship!”
“Whoa there pardner. Let's not get too carried away. I still need to send a report back to TK and the company board.”
“I've always wanted a condo in outerspace, dear.” Beth smiled demurely.
Billy Ray sighed and looked around at the faces of the people he loved most in the Universe.
“Hell, it'll take 'em months to get back to us. We may as well be comfortable while we wait. Bobby, pour us another round.”
Epilogue
Shopping Mall Plaza, Starflake
Three and a half months after dispatching the messenger drone to OATC headquarters several ships popped into existence from alter-space. Earth ships by their drive signatures and confirmed by radio seven hours after emergence. It took another fifteen days for the three ships to arrive: the Rosa Amarilla; the Fortitude, a sister ship to the Peggy Sue II; and the freighter Halifax. While the Fortitude stood off as a picket, the others docked with the Starflake.
The Halifax carried a hold full of military material: weapons, suits of armor, and three new Kestrels. Also, the hard to manufacture pieces for shield generators and particle cannon. Everything the Earthlings would need to fortify the station and prevent future hostile invasions. New engineers and technicians joined those from the Peggy Sue's crew in the work while fresh recruits were put through their paces by the Gunny.
As the representatives of the Honorable Orion Arm Trading Company arrived in the main plaza they were met by the Peggy Sue's senior officers. Led by Captain Vincent, the four walked among the other inhabitants of the station without armor, though they wore swords and handguns on their waists. The lack of armor was both a sign of trust and a statement that said no sane creature would attack an Earthling on board the Starflake.
“Billy Ray! It's good to see you alive and kicking, son,” shouted TK Parker from halfway across the plaza. Striding up to the four, the former Texas oil man and current merchant prince greeted them all in turn. “Beth, you look radiant! Mizuki, Dr. Saito sends his love; and Bobby, yer a sight for sore eyes.”
As her husband pumped the men's hands and kissed the women's cheeks, TK's wife, Maria, made a more dignified approach, trailed by several aides and attendants. “Hola, everyone. TK, stop making a spectacle of yourself in front of all the aliens.”
“Welcome, Maria,” Beth said, stepping up to embrace her. She might harbor some reservations when it came to TK and his schemes but Beth genuinely loved his wife. Mizuki joined the other two women, accompanied by a swarm of excited butterflies flashing festive colors. The aoi chō reflected their mistress' emotions and Mizuki was very happy to see old friends from Earth.
“When I sent my report I was hardly expecting a reply in person, TK,” Billy Ray began.
“What? And miss humanity's biggest discovery since the M'tak Ka'fek? Ain't no way I was gonna sit at home and miss coming to take a gander at this Starflake of yours.”
“Well this is it,” Billy Ray gestured with a sweep of his arm. “What do you think?”
“It's even more impressive than the holograms you sent. That moving roadway system is something else, I can see a thousand uses for that technology alone. And you say this place is more than a million years old?”
“That's what the entity that maintains it says.”
“Right, that would be the intelligent moss you found.”
“Actually, Bobby and Mizuki found the Tcist. It was only later that a couple of lost Marines found the treasure at the heart of the Starflake.”
“You and that wife of yours, Bobby, always finding treasure where no one else can. Way to go, son. You realize that you are now all rich enough to retire a hundred times over?”
“Thanks, TK, but the payoff was not why we came. And winning the station was not without cost.”
“Yeah, I read about that too. Damn shame those brave Marines and sailors died fightin' them alien varmints.” TK looked out across the plaza as the conversation fell silent for a moment. There he spotted a strange statue.
“What in the Sam Hill is that?”
The others turned. There, in the middle of the plaza was a more than life-sized statue of an alien. Squat and muscular, clutching a package to its chest, it was a sculpture of a whooboo. TK led the group of humans over to the monument. A bronze plaque was affixed to the two meter tall plinth. On it were the words: “The Unknown Whooboo.”
“What in tarnation is a whooboo?”
“It's one of the maintenance workers that fix things around the station. At the very end of the battle against the Uxoreeza, our SEALs intercepted a detail of hostiles who were intent on blowing the station up. They stopped the aliens but the time
r on their demolition charge was already activated—an antimatter bomb that would have set off the entire cache at the station's core.
“To make a long story short, one of the whooboo took the bomb and got it off the station just in time to save the lives of everyone on board. It ejected itself into space with the bomb, giving its life for the rest of ours.”
“So this whooboo critter is the hero of the battle of the Starflake?”
“Hai, TK,” Mizuki said, as the women joined the three men at the base of the stature. “We still do not know if the whooboo are sentient, biological constructs, or just very smart animals, but we do know that one of them gave its life to save the station. We thought the least we could do was erect a statue in memoriam.”
“Amazing,” the old Texan said, looking up at the ugly yet somehow heroic figure above them. “I guess heroes come in all shapes and sizes.”
“Yep,” Billy Ray added. “Some even come in mustard yellow.”
Beth took the moment as an opportunity to move the party along. They had a lot of business to take care of and she was anxious to get to it. “Let us show you our temporary company offices. They have a great view of the plaza. We can relax, catch up and have a drink.”
“A drink? Now yer talking sweetheart.” TK Parker was a man who enjoyed his whiskey, particularly when it was consumed with friends while telling tales of adventure. Beth exchanged a secret smile with her husband, as if to say, I knew that would get him moving.
As the party moved toward an elevator shaft, Maria asked, “Now that you have found this magnificent palace among the stars, what are you going to do next?”
“We figure we need to stick around here until we get things squared away,” Billy Ray answered. “But we still have some unfinished business.”
“Oh? How is that?”
“We didn't come here looking for the Starflake. As marvelous as it is, its discovery was pure serendipity.” Billy Ray paused and Mizuki completed the answer.
“You see, Maria, we came this way looking for the Lost Pleiad. She is still out there among the stars, waiting for us to find her. The Pleiades are calling, and curiosity compels us to answer.”