Everyone looked to each other, trying to figure out if the doctor was serious or if this was some kind of weird joke.
“Well, what do you think?” Doctor Miller looked around at the squad, then zeroed in on Riot. “Do you like it?”
For a split second, Riot remembered watching a movie where a kid had made a wooden pickle for his father as a gift. A freaking wooden pickle that looked like a piece of excrement. He thought it was the best present in the world. His father had looked at it and thrown it away.
Be nice, Riot said to herself as she forced a smile to her lips. She means well in her own weird way.
“That’s … thoughtful … of … you,” Riot said the words like a robot. It actually made her feel sick to be so nice.
“Oh good, I’m so glad you like it!” Doctor Miller jumped up and down, clapping her hands together in front of her chest. “I was so worried you weren’t going to think it was a big deal.”
“Actually it kind of suck—” Ketrick stomped his booted foot onto Wang’s left foot. “Awww … suuuuuper.”
“Evonne, can you open the cargo doors, please?” Riot looked up at the ship’s metal cargo door.
“Immediately, Warrant Officer Riot.” Evonne’s ethereal voice drifted from the ship. “Congratulations on your promotion, Warrant Officer, and on the new uniforms.”
“I thought they were new,” Vet said, looking down at his clothes. “Kind of tight in the crotch, though, if you ask me.”
“Yes, we all have the SPEAR insignia on our uniforms now, and the secondary color of our uniform better fits our class,” Doctor Miller said, smiling up at the ship as the cargo bay ramp slowly lowered. “Riot’s secondary color is red, for leadership. Vet’s and Rizzo’s are yellow for engineer. Corporal Wang and I share blue for medic and scientist.”
“Well, I’m glad that mystery is cleared up.” Riot rolled her eyes as the cargo bay finished lowering. “Let’s settle in. Briefing when we hit hyperspace. Time to go to work, Marines.”
51
Riot stood on the bridge behind Rizzo, who touched the holographic display on the pilot’s control panel in front of her. She watched as he ran through the ships pre-flight system checks without really seeing what he was doing at all.
Riot was deep in thought about their mission and what she was going to tell her team. She was going to give them all the facts, of course, but should she also bring up what she suspected? That the Grovothe only wanted to meet with them now because they wanted something from them?
The metal doors to the bridge slid open with a whoosh.
“How is she not a spirit?” Ketrick strode in, wearing long, dark pants and boots with a cut-off brown shirt. “I understand she is everywhere on the ship at once, so she’s a spirit, by definition.”
“Artificial Intelligence is closer to a computer program than a supernatural event,” Evonne said, her Australian accent cutting through her words. “I assure you, I am no spirit. Is your dragon aboard and secure on the ship, Prince Ketrick?”
“Vikta has resumed a smaller state and is lounging in the ship’s cargo bay.” Ketrick looked up at the ship’s ceiling as if he were expecting to see Evonne at any moment. “Truly wondrous.”
“Thank you,” Evonne said as the doors to the bridge whooshed open again. The three other members of the unit walked in, all taking their seats. Deborah and Wang to her left, Vet, and now Ketrick, to her right.
Riot took the captain’s chair in the middle of the bridge.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
“Incoming call from General Armon,” Evonne said. “Shall I put him on the main screen?”
“Yes,” Riot said, directing her attention to the large glass window that looked out the front of their ship.
A second later, General Armon’s perfect buzzed haircut, groomed mustache, and crisp uniform filled their field of view. His eyes were hard, his tone serious as he began.
“Marines, I know you didn’t have much downtime between missions, but when you’re the best of the best, you take what you can get when you can get it. Warrant Officer Riot will be briefing you while you are en route to your objective. I just wanted to remind you that, although the general populace will never know what you are doing today, the entire staff at the Bulwark, as well as my superiors and the President of the United States himself, see you for what you are: men and women willing to put themselves in the way of danger not only for our great nation, but also for the entire planet.”
General Armon paused for a moment as if he were gathering his thoughts. The look of pure determination never left his square jawline.
“There is a word for those people who do the right things, the hard things, even when no one will know. Those people are called heroes. Take care of each other, remember your training, and come back safe. God speed, Marines. Oohrah!”
“Oohrah!”
The deep sound from the three Marines on the bridge and Rizzo, who pounded a fist to his chest, accompanied the act of the screen disappearing and the window transitioning to clear glass.
“Are we ready to rock and roll, Corporal Rizzo?” Riot said from her seat as she secured the harness over her chest.
Rizzo’s answer came up in large, red letters across the main screen on the bridge: READY TO ROCK
“You have permission to take off,” Riot said, glancing over to Vet, who looked at her expectantly with his one good eye. “Where are we flying to today?”
Vet’s constant frown changed from his nose down. His brow remained furrowed but his mouth turned into a grin.
“Evonne,” Vet said to the AI, “play the soundtrack I most recently uploaded to the ship’s mainframe, please.”
“Right away,” Evonne responded. A moment later, the bridge was filled with a melody by a classic rapper from many years ago, Biggie Smalls; his song “Hypnotize” blared over the ship’s speakers.
Rizzo activated the engines. The ship shuddered to life. The next moment, they were lifting off the hangar floor, turning in a tight circle so the nose of their craft aimed at the exit tunnel.
In front of Riot, Rizzo’s head bobbed up and down with the music. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see the rest of the crews’ heads follow the motion. Even Doctor Miller and Ketrick were feeling the beat.
Riot’s stomach clenched and felt as though it hit her spine as Rizzo punched the thrusters. The Valkyrie rocketed forward into the tunnel and up the long, metal tube to the surface.
“Do we always have to take the tunnel this fast!?” Doctor Miller shouted, her face pale. She pressed the back of her right hand to her mouth like she was about to puke.
Rizzo turned in his seat, the craft still ascending through the tunnel. He looked at the doctor with a worried expression and a head nod, asking if she was all right.
“Keep your eyes on the road! Eyes on the road!” Doctor Miller practically screamed. “Oh God, I’m going to be sick.”
Rizzo smiled and turned back to the control panel. The next second, the ship was through the tunnel and headed up. The bright, orange star they called the sun blazed to the east.
Riot went with the feeling of the G-force pressing against her body as the ship barreled through the atmosphere. The Marines had taught her a lot about life. One of the harder lessons was that when things got tough, you embraced the struggle and, knowing it would pass, continued on.
Soon, the sky transitioned from blue to black. Thousands of stars twinkled out in the blackness of space, each one of these bright spots on the ebony map carrying a unique story waiting to be told. A story that could now be explored, thanks to the help of faster-than-light-speed travel.
Sooner or later, Riot understood other Peace Envoy Units would be assembled, if they weren’t already. Mankind’s greatest urge was to explore. They wouldn’t settle until they had reached the ends of the universe. Riot was sure of that, more than anything in her life. For now, that meant gathering allies. How long before they discovered enemies?
Thoughts of the alien race o
f Karnayers that Riot and her team had encountered while on Ketrick’s home planet of Hoydren swam across her mind. Earth had already discovered their next foe. At present, the Karnayers had been dealt with, either killed, retreated, or captured, while their leader, Remus, was being kept alive in a Trilord prison.
When the Trilords were done ensuring he paid for his crimes, he would be transported to Earth. What they would find out from him would be crucial to preparing for the next time they encountered the race of aliens. There was no doubt the alien would refuse to speak. Riot had heard stories of black ops interrogators and what they were willing to do to gather information.
Let’s just focus on what we have in front of us, Riot reminded herself. There’s enough to deal with here and now without worrying about the next conflict with the Karnayers.
The sound of someone puking brought Riot back to the current task at hand.
Doctor Miller had vomited all over the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
She lowered her head, sending another wave of grey liquid onto the bridge floor. There were chunks of creamy mush in her vomit, and even a few brown lumps.
“Let me guess,” Riot said, eyeing the doctor with an amused expression. “Oatmeal, banana, and … raisins?”
Doctor Miller looked up, wiping a uniform sleeve across her mouth. “Yes, how … how did you know?”
“It’s like her superpower,” Wang said, looking down at the vomit with a grimace. “She can pick out vomit like a pro.”
“Get yourself cleaned up,” Riot said to her, then looked over to Vet. “Can you plot the course for us to the designated rendezvous? I’ll send you the coordinates now.”
“Roger that,” Vet said as he started maneuvering his hands around the hologram control desk in front of his station. See-through red images designating controls and readouts popped up in front of him.
Riot looked down at the right armrest of her chair where a control panel rested. She punched in a few of the keys, bringing up a file and sending it to Vet.
“Received and sending it over to Rizzo,” Vet said as he turned to Riot with a raised eyebrow. “Permission to ask where we’re going now?”
“As soon as we hit faster than light speed, FTL, I’ll tell you all the good stuff.” Riot looked up to the main screen where Rizzo was typing.
Coordinates locked. Ready on your go.
“Should we do something about that first?” Wang asked from his seat next to Deborah Miller. He looked green and was holding a hand to his own mouth. “It’s going to start sliding around when we hit FTL. I know it.”
“Suck it up,” Riot said, shaking her head and motioning to Rizzo. “Rizzo, let’s go.”
Roger that. Rizzo’s answer appeared in typed out red letters on the giant screen.
There was a slight jolt as the windows in front of them transitioned from a black canopy of white stars, to a warping mixture of colors that spanned the spectrum of the rainbow. Ethereal lights transitioned from red to blue to orange and every other color Riot could think of.
Who would have thought FTL would be like looking at the Northern Lights, Riot thought. Kinda makes you forget you’re traveling at breakneck speed through galaxies.
Wang leaned over and vomited on the floor next to himself and Doctor Miller.
“Ugh, I’m usually good on trips, until I smell someone else’s vomit,” Wang said, letting out another torrent of his last meal. “We really need to clean this up.”
“It smells. His smells so bad!” Doctor Miller looked up at Riot with panic in her eyes. “I’m going to throw up again.”
“Easy.” Riot scrunched her own nose as the sour odors wafted in her direction. “Fine. Let’s get this cleaned up, and then I’ll tell you about the dwarves we’re off to meet.”
52
Riot sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge as Wang and Deborah mopped up their vomit. Her eyes tracked back and forth, scanning the information on her hologram display built into the side of her chair’s arm.
The piece of technology mirrored her hand’s movements, bringing a screen to the front as she motioned upward. When she slid her hand to the side, it transitioned to the next screen. Information matching what Riot had heard in the briefing the night before came to the front of the screens as she shifted through the reports for any piece of new information.
After her ride on Vikta the night before, Riot had stayed up into the early hours of the morning, looking through the information given to her on the Grovothe. To be honest, there wasn’t much.
Rizzo and Vet were busy at their consoles. Riot could feel Ketrick’s eyes on her.
“Yes?” Riot looked up at the Trilord. “Can I help you with something, or do you just want to stare?”
Ketrick shrugged. “I’m just admiring the technology you have at your disposal, Sorceress. I’ll have to get Evonne to teach me more of these wonders so I, too, can use the controls.”
Riot bit back a retort about being referred to as a sorceress. Riot and Ketrick both knew she wasn’t a witch, but they also knew Riot thought it was funny, whether or not she would admit it to the Trilord.
“Man, no more jalapeño spaghetti for breakfast for this Marine,” Wang said, shaking his head. He tossed a rag into a steel bucket. “That was rough.”
“If I had a physical form, I might have been able to assist in cleaning up the human vomit,” Evonne said. “However, since I am simply an artificial intelligence that lives in the ship, I cannot help.”
“Yes, we all know you want a body,” Riot said, shaking her head as she rehashed an old topic with the AI. “I’ll put in a request with the general.”
“I’ll be right back.” Doctor Miller coughed as she picked up the steel bucket they had used to clean the mess. She carried the vessel as if it had the power to vomit on her.
Rizzo’s text popped up on the screen. The course we’ve plotted will keep us in FTL just over twenty-four hours, with just the one gate to travel through.
“Good,” Riot said, interlacing the fingers on both hands and cracking her knuckles. “We’ll have plenty of time to rest and prepare.”
“Sorry, I’m back.” Doctor Miller rushed to her seat. “What did I miss?”
“We’re going to arrive at wherever it is we’re going, tomorrow,” Wang said, recapping Rizzo’s report. “Warrant Officer Riot was just about to tell us where we’re going and who we’re going to meet.”
Riot sent an image from her controls to the large window on the ship. A picture of the same stout admiral who had sent them the video in the briefing appeared.
“They’re called the Grovothe, and they live on a planet called Shaynar,” Riot started. “They’re just as advanced as the Syndicate, maybe even more so. We reached out to them in friendship, and they ignored us for a week. Then we got a message from them asking to meet. We’re on our way now to rendezvous with the Grovothe and see what they want.”
“How do you know they want something?” Ketrick scratched the underside of his jaw. “They could be simply willing to ally with us.”
“Possibly,” Riot said, shaking her head, “but in my experience, they didn’t wait a week to respond because they were having problems with their cell phones. They want something from us, or it’s a trap.”
“Oh, I hope it’s a trap,” Vet sighed, leaning back into his chair daydreaming about the possibility. “We have some new tech I’ve been working on and—”
“Let’s not hope it’s a trap, but in the same breath, be ready for whatever comes our way,” Riot corrected her executive officer. “We already have the Karnayers to think about, plus let’s not forget about the cryptic race they referred to as the Ancient Ones.”
“Point taken,” Vet said, sitting straight up in his chair.
“Weapons when we get there?” Wang asked, looking to Riot with a raised eyebrow. “Armor?”
Doctor Miller looked up at Riot, her mouth already open, about to interject.
“We’ll take sidearms only,” Riot
said in a voice meant to placate the doctor. “I understand this is a peace-keeping mission, but I think a standard sidearm, holstered, won’t rub our new friends the wrong way.”
There was a rippling of nods as the Marines, the doctor, and the Trilord agreed with Riot’s plan.
“All right,” Riot said, rising from her seat. “Rest up. We’re auditioning for new friends tomorrow.”
Riot passed the rest of her day going over the information they had on the Grovothe one more time. She hadn’t missed anything, but it made her feel better to study the race she would be meeting the next day. The things that stood out to her the most was that fact that the Grovothe had, on their own, been able to conjure up technology that far surpassed anything Earth would’ve been able to create in the absence of the Syndicate.
The second thing that struck Riot was the level of information they must have, not only in weapons and technology, but also in knowledge of the universe. What would they be able to tell her about the Ancient Ones, or the Karnayers, or the thousands of other alien races who were sure to live amongst the stars.
After studying and a quick meal at the mess hall, Riot headed for the sparring room. The Valkyrie consisted of three levels, each standing about ten feet in height. These levels met at the rear of the ship to form the cargo bay, which was one wide-open room filled with equipment.
The sparring room was located on the middle floor, right before the ship opened up into the cargo bay. Riot wasn’t too surprised to find herself alone. The ship was large enough to give them all privacy. She wore a black tank top and pants, with sneakers meant for running.
The training room was as large as any gym Riot had been to. A square blue mat sat in the middle of the room. Circling the mat was every piece of machinery Riot could ask for: squat bars, dumbbells, kettle bells, battle ropes, and benches were just a few she made mental notes to visit.
The next hour was spent beating her body into submission. She lifted, squatted, and pressed until her muscles screamed with fiery accomplishment. Sweat trickled down her forehead. Her shoulder-length brown hair tied behind her, Riot ignored the rise in her body’s temperature and kept going.
War Wolves: Boxset 1-3 Page 22