It Ain't Over... (Cole & Srexx Book 1)

by Robert M Kerns

  A dozen different responses went through Cole’s mind, but the fact of the matter was, he’d survived a rocket strike. Yes, his armor deserved most of the credit for that, but still…he survived it. In the end, Cole just nodded.

  “You got it, Doc. I’m not sure I feel up to getting rowdy, anyway.”

  “Good. Do you feel up to visitors? I think half the ship would be outside if I’d let them, but you’re in no condition for public appearances. As it is, there are four who simply refused to leave.”

  Cole grinned. “Sure. Send them in.”

  Talia turned and walked over the hatch. She pressed the control to open the hatch, and the first two into the room were Yeleth and Wixil. Wixil looked like she wanted to climb up on the treatment bed beside Cole, although there wasn’t room, but she contented herself to stand close to her mother. After the Ghrexels, Sasha entered and almost broke into a smile at Cole’s mock glare. The fourth person, however, Cole did not expect at all; he hadn’t seen the man in eight years. Cole could feel his expression shifting to one of total surprise and shock, but the sight of his old friend was just too unexpected.

  “Garrett? What the hell were you doing in Iota Ceti?”

  Garrett looked from Sasha to Talia and then to the Ghrexels, saying, “See? I told you we’re friends.”

  “Garrett, what were you doing in Iota Ceti?” Cole asked. Then, his eyes widened. He remembered the several prisoners they’d taken, and he also remembered he had paid little attention to their faces. “Oh, man…please, don’t tell me you were working for them.”

  Garrett grimaced. “Well…in a manner of speaking, I was. A few years back, I got in way too deep in one of Bosil’s casinos. I tried getting enough work to pay off the debt, but she stopped listening and sent me to Iota Ceti as a slave.”

  “Oh, wow,” Cole said, his eyes widening. “That’s rough. How long had you been there?”

  “A couple years.”

  Silence descended on the room for few moments before Sasha spoke.

  “Cole, do you mind if I ask how you met Garrett?”

  Cole shook his head. “I don’t mind, Sasha. He was the first to arrive after…” Cole’s voice trailed off as he swallowed hard. “I was just sitting there in orbit, watching my home burn. Whoever it was had bombarded every location where there was a hint of human settlement…almost down to the bedrock. Garrett helped me bury what was left to be found; it seemed like it took forever. He took me away from there and taught me what I needed to know to survive. I’m not talking about cooking and sewing and stuff like that. I mean things like how the world really works…which star systems to avoid…which to skirt…and which are okay. I spent four years with him before striking out on my own.”

  “I don’t know if I ever said so,” Sasha said, “but I’m sorry about your family.”

  “Thanks,” Cole said, almost shrugging. “It…it doesn’t hurt like it used to, but it never goes away, either. Kind of like scar tissue that way.”

  Talia looked at Cole, her eyes narrowing just a hint. She turned to the others, saying, “Okay. I think we should let Cole rest. I’ll keep an eye on him tonight and release him tomorrow if there are no complications.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In Transit to Caernarvon System

  16 July 2999

  “Cole-Captain?” the ship’s computer said, via the speakers in the captain’s day-cabin. He’d visited the captain’s quarters once and wasn’t comfortable with the palatial space. The day-cabin was more of a functional dining and sleeping area where the captain could still be close to the bridge.

  Cole sighed. “Yes, Haven?”

  “Purser Yeleth desires communication with you.”

  “Put her through,” Cole said. The speakers chirped, indicating an active comms call. “Yes, Yeleth?”

  “What is your availability for a meeting, Captain?” Yeleth asked. Her phrasing put Cole on his guard. She never addressed him as ‘captain.’

  Cole frowned, even though she couldn’t see it. “To be honest, Yeleth, I’m still on light duty. What’s the nature of the meeting?”

  “I have been speaking with the local nest of Kiksaliks that we rescued from Iota Ceti,” Yeleth said. “They are favorable to your proposition, but the queen of the local nest has said the time has come for her people to meet you.”

  Cole considered the situation. He wasn’t doing all that much right then. Sasha wouldn’t even let him sit at the helm station, so he’d been reading up on the ship.

  “Where do I need to be?” Cole asked.

  Yeleth was silent for a few moments before saying, “If acceptable with you, Captain, I shall bring a representative to your office on Deck Three.”

  “That’s fine. When should I expect you?”

  “Perhaps…twenty minutes?”

  That would give Cole enough time to shower and change into fresh clothes. He nodded and then grinned, since Yeleth couldn’t see him nod. “That sounds fine, Yeleth. I’ll be waiting.”

  Cole approached the Captain’s Office just across the corridor from the port-side hatch to the bridge. He wasn’t sure he’d ever stepped into these compartments, either the yeoman’s office or the captain’s actual office. The office connected to the captain’s day-cabin via a shared head (shower and toilet facilities), but Cole felt like entering from the corridor. When he approached the hatch, it irised open for him, and Cole blinked at seeing Wixil sitting at the yeoman’s desk.

  “Hi, Wixil,” Cole said.

  Wixil regarded Cole with a warm expression as her tail languidly swished from side to side. “Hi, Cole! Mother is bringing a representative of the Kiksaliks we rescued in Iota Ceti to speak with you. She’s been discussing your desire to hire them, and the talks have reached the point that the local Queen thinks she should send a representative to you.”

  “Local Queen, huh?” Cole asked.

  Wixil nodded, her tail still swishing like a languid metronome. “Yes. Kiksaliks are intelligent insectoids, and they have a hive mind. Each community—no matter the size—is called a nest. Outside of their own territory, most people don’t seem to want them around, and I’ve never understood that. They’re nice people.”

  Cole nodded. “It’s probably the whole ‘read your mind’ thing. I can’t imagine many people are happy with the idea that someone they pass on the street might scan their mind and know their inner-most secrets.”

  “Oh.” Wixil’s ears and tail drooped. “I didn’t think about that. That could be tough, if they didn’t have some kind of policy not to read people’s minds…but there will always be those who break policy.”

  Cole nodded again. “That doesn’t mean we should shun them, though. They’re people, just like the rest of us.”

  Wixil’s ears perked back up as her tail resumed its languid swishing. “You’re right. We should be nicer to each other than we are. Oh…you’d better go in your office. Mom will be here soon, and she might not want to find you out here with me.”

  “I’m not too worried about it. It’s my ship. If I want to talk with a friend while I wait for an appointment, why can’t I do that?”

  Wixil gazed at Cole, her ears still perked up and her tail still swishing. Cole thought he heard just the slightest hint of a purr.

  Cole started to say something else, but the hatch to the corridor irised open, allowing Yeleth to lead the Kiksalik representative into the outer office. If she disapproved of Cole not being in the captain’s office, it didn’t show, and Cole smiled at meeting his first Kiksalik. He’d heard all kinds of stories, but there was nothing like first-hand experience.

  The Kiksalik with Yeleth looked like an odd cross between a terrestrial ant and a terrestrial fly. Its exoskeleton was a dull amber color, and its dark eyes were ovoid and only slightly convex. Its thorax was about waist-level on Cole, and each of its walking appendages clicked as they came into contact with the deck. Cole wasn’t certain how it manipulated tools, even though Kiksaliks were tool-users, because he saw no ana
logs to hands or the Ghrexels’ paws. Cole identified its mandibles, though, and they were folded across the Kiksalik’s mouth. Two antennae—barely thicker than Ghrexel whiskers—rose from just behind the Kiksalik’s eyes.

  “Captain Cole,” Yeleth said, “this is 176, representing the local hive of Kiksaliks.”

  “I greet you, 176,” Cole said. “Please, come with me into my office.”

  Cole turned and led Yeleth and 176 into the captain’s office. He walked around the desk and started to sit, realizing he wasn’t sure how to make the Kiksalik comfortable.

  “Forgive me, 176, I’m not sure any of the seats I have are comfortable for you. How should we handle that?”

  The Kiksalik’s mandibles waved and its antennae quivered, and Cole heard a chittering, clicking sound coming out of its mouth, with the occasional squeak. Cole despaired of developing a dialogue, but then, he heard it.

  Think nothing of it, Captain. We do not sit as you are used to sitting.

  Cole stared at the Kiksalik. “Are you speaking directly to my mind?”

  Yes, Captain. We are. You converse with Ixxvikal, Queen of the local nest. Interesting. ‘Cole’ is not your name.

  “No, it isn’t. I never liked ‘Bartholomew’ or any of its derivatives, and ‘Coleson’ is very dangerous right now.”

  Yes, your family name is dangerous. This is most likely the last Gyv’Rathi Battle-Carrier in operational condition across the known galaxy.

  “Do your people know much of the Gyv’Rathi?” Cole asked.

  They were…formidable. They helped all who needed it. They defended the defenseless. They did not encroach on others’ space, and they would brook no encroachment into theirs. Countless species lost fleets, trying to steal the secrets of the Gyv’Rathi.

  “So…if you know my name is Bartholomew Coleson by now, you know why I want to hire you.”

  Yes.

  “What is your response?”

  You are the first Human we’ve encountered who approaches us with interest and wonder. We cooperated with those ruling the station as they threatened our nest. You have no such impulses. We will help you.

  “Thank you. What is your price?”

  Haven.

  Cole almost choked, thinking of his ship. “Excuse me?”

  Haven. We desire that which you have provided Yeleth…a haven safe from the evil sentients of the galaxy…a haven where we can grow and learn and experience, and in time, we may ask that you take our descendants home to communicate all we have learned to the Hive.

  Cole smiled. “I think we have an agreement. Welcome aboard the Battle-Carrier Haven. Yeleth will oversee the hiring, and please inform her of your dietary needs. Oh…and she will help you find living space for your nest.”

  It is as foretold.

  With that, Kiksalik 176 turned and skittered out of the office.

  Cole looked to Yeleth, saying, “Did you get all of that, too?”

  “Yes. It is…an impressive experience.”

  “Okay, then. Proceed with sorting through the people who want a job, and let me know what you need. Oh. Just because I’m a firm believer in the philosophy of ‘trust but verify,’ interview the SDF people first. Let’s make sure they’re as honest in their convictions as they seem to be.”

  Yeleth performed her approximation of a nod. “Yes, Captain.”

  “Okay. I’m going next door to my day-cabin. Sasha won’t let me sit at the helm station as long as I’m on light duty, so there’s not a whole lot for me to do.”

  A short time later, Cole was sitting on the couch in the day-cabin when he remembered a conversation he’d had with the ship’s computer…a conversation he still needed to follow up on.

  “Srexx?”

  “Yes, Cole?”

  “The ship’s computer told me you might have schematics for additional classes of ships.”

  Silence.

  “Srexx?”

  “Why do you ask, Cole?”

  Cole sighed. “Well, this ship was designated as a Battle-Carrier, according to the ship’s computer. That tells me there might be fighter or bomber designs, and the two decks designed for ground troops tells me there might be designs for dropships, too. I’m also wondering what other classes of ships there might have been, because the ship’s computer referenced a scout-frigate.”

  “The circumstances that led to the discovery of my sentience involved my people learning I had accessed the databases of the Stellar Directorate. I have schematics for their starfighters, the small craft you would understand as bombers, their four types of frigates, destroyers, cruisers, and battle-carriers…of which Haven is one. I have schematics on a ship under development that would correspond to your idea of a dreadnought, larger even than Haven’s class. I also possess the schematics for numerous weapons systems and projectiles…which you would term missiles, torpedoes, and bombs. Would you like me to release these schematics to the ship?”

  Cole leaned back against the couch and thought through the situation. “No, Srexx…not yet. I would like to scan through them, so please, release them to me. Otherwise, let’s find out who’s staying and who’s going first. I want to know everyone aboard is aboard for the right reasons.”

  “Yes, Cole…and thank you. I dislike the thought of these schematics getting out into the world. Given what I have learned of your people, I fear its use.”

  Cole nodded. “You and me both, buddy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Caernarvon System

  27 July 2999, 06:57 GST

  Cole stepped onto the bridge for the first time in a little over eleven days. As he stepped through the hatch, Sasha swiveled and lifted one of her eyebrows. Cole didn’t say a word, crossing the bridge and tapping Mazzi’s shoulder.

  “I have the helm,” Cole said.

  Mazzi spun, her eyes wide. Then, she smiled. “Of course, Captain. Welcome back!”

  Mazzi stood and returned to the weapons station as Cole sat and activated his stored configuration for the helm console.

  “Commander…Captain, you need to see this,” Haskell at Sensors said.

  “Send it to the forward viewscreen,” Cole said.

  The forward viewscreen activated and displayed a scan of the system. Cole had no idea what the ship used as its sensor technology, but it wasn’t radar or some other lightspeed technology. At the ship’s current range, they didn’t have as detailed a picture as they would much closer, but even if they couldn’t read the hull markings on the various ships in the system, that was almost all they couldn’t read. A red square bracketed a section of the display to indicate what the person at sensors wanted everyone to see, right before the image zoomed in on that square.

  The viewscreen showed an image of a group of ships moving in formation. As Cole watched, the ships’ names and registry numbers appeared, and Cole read through them. The formation had four battleships, eight cruisers, sixteen destroyers, and sixty-four frigates.

  Cole blinked as he stared at the viewscreen. “That’s a bleeding battlegroup. Why in the stars would the Solars send a full-on battlegroup to Caernarvon? And what transponder are we running?”

  “We’re running the Haven transponder, Captain,” Jennings at the comms station said.

  Cole stared at the sensor image of the battlegroup on the viewscreen, and he grinned, unable to keep from asking a question. “Hey, Srexx…you think we can take ‘em?”

  Cole never saw the nervous glances around the bridge behind him as Srexx replied, “I would rather you not attempt it, Cole. If we had our own screening elements, I would say it is a foregone conclusion, but I’m reticent to state that even a fully operational battle-carrier could withstand the collective firepower present in that battlegroup.”

  “Wait…what?” Sasha asked. “This ship isn’t fully operational?”

  Cole swiveled to face her and shook his head. “Nope. We’re missing two shield layers and all of our dorsal and ventral weapons. I’m not sure what else. That’s all the computer
mentioned.”

  “Why are we missing two shield layers and the weaponry?” Sasha frowned her confusion.

  “They were never installed,” Cole said. “The two shield layers just need emitters installed. The weapons need to be fabricated before we can install them. Has anyone seen us yet?”

  “No, Captain,” Jennings said. “It will be several hours yet for the light of our arrival to reach the nearest ships or installations.”

  “What’s the latest report on the food situation? Do we need to stop here?”

  “I’m afraid so, Cole,” Sasha said. “We have a day—maybe two—at most. If we left here, we’d either have to come back or starve. Besides, we have our pick of people, so we need to get them registered with the Interstellar Spacer Association and start working them up their profession trees.”

  Cole sighed. “I hope the natives are friendly.”

  Cole swiveled back around to the helm and plotted a course for the orbital station. Cole wasn’t in the mood to wait around, either, and set the engines to half-lightspeed; at that speed, it would take Haven a little over fourteen hours and twenty-five minutes to arrive at the station.

  Four hours later, the battlegroup from the Solar Republic lit off its drives and started what looked very much like a mad rush to the inner system…well…as much of a mad rush as the battleships could make. Just for giggles, Cole gave the computer a few minutes to track their trajectory and extrapolated their course. The result made Cole sit back in his seat and frown.