Radclyf grins, then replies decisively, “Dog is not pretty to look at, and he doesn’t take orders well. But,” he adds with conviction, “when it comes to a firefight, he is the best.”
Peter tilts his head to Radclyf, offering him a questioning gaze, but he says nothing.
Radclyf catches the look and says, “I have fought with all of you, and I can personally attest to Dog’s abilities.”
David places his hands behind his back, stares at Radclyf then asks, “Your orders?”
Radclyf glances at Cindy, who simply purses her lips and sits down. The bridge remains quiet for a few moments, then Cindy replies, “You will follow the orders of any of these men.” She pauses for a second then reluctantly adds, “Is that understood? Dog.”
“Sure lady, whatever you say.” David replies casually.
Cindy has just about had enough of David’s attitude, and is about to react, when she notices Radclyf’s head shake the barest amount. She pauses and waits, even though she would love nothing better than to toss the insolent man off her ship.
Radclyf walks to the hardened man and says, “Dog, not only would I follow her orders to the grave, but some of our men already have.”
David’s eyes lift in surprise, then he replies, “I owe you, and I told you, I pay my debts.” He turns his intense gaze to Cindy, then surprises everyone when he salutes her and says, “Your orders?”
Cindy’s jaw drops, but she quickly recovers and says, “Your men should be assembling in the mess hall as we speak. I want them ready for anything.”
“Understood,” David replies, and then adds questioningly, “Where am I bunking?”
The bridge crew had been hotly debating this very issue when Joe and Suzanne interrupted them. Cindy decides to go with Radclyf’s suggestion, one she fervently objected to not long ago. She replies. “Where ever you want, well any available cabin space, that is.”
“My equipment?” David demands bluntly.
Cindy replies confidently, “Peter can secure anything you need.”
David scoffs, “Anything! Really?” He says skeptically.
Hayato, who has quietly observed the back and forth banter, walks up to the battle scared soldier and says, “Anything!” He pulls a pistol out from behind his back, and hands it to the man.
David takes the offered hand gun. He turns it over in his hands, feeling its weight. He removes the clip from the pistol’s base, then examines the ammunition. He blinks in surprise, and asks, “What kind of ammo is this?”
Hayato grins as he replies, “Our own special blend.” He adds with pride, “Penetrates like a fifty-cal, but only kicks like a nine-mill.”
Suitably impressed, David hands the gun back and says, “I will draft a list of equipment and supplies.” He turns to leave, but stops and asks, “Have the men received the t-shirts I requested?”
Peter replies, “They have indeed, and they should be wearing them.”
“Good.” David replies with a smirk.
“Do you need someone to show you the way?” Peter asks.
“Nope.” David replies as he strides purposefully off the bridge.
As soon as David is out of sight, Cindy turns her full attention to Radclyf and demands hotly, “What is the story between you two?”
Radclyf grins devilishly, “I will have to tell you all one day. But trust me, he is damn good.” He turns to Peter and adds, “I think he would even give you a run for your money.”
Peter, who has fought side by side with Radclyf, simply nods at the assessment. Hayato lifts an eyebrow, but remains respectfully quiet. He too, has fought side by side with Radclyf, and if his colleague states that David is their equal, then so be it.
David slows in his walk, and frowns. He glances back at the entryway to the bridge and wonders what it will be like working on a spaceship.
Training Days
David strides into the mess hall, his combat boots strike the deck plates loudly as he walks. He grins like a fool when he easily spots his trainees, over one hundred of them.
One of the group notices him and quickly shouts, “On deck.”
The room becomes deathly quiet. Even the dozen or so crewmen and women in the room sit quietly as they curiously observe the spectacle before them.
David runs his intense gaze over the men and quickly counts them. His voice booms out loudly as he shouts at the assembled group. “My name is Dog, but none of you have earned the right to call me that, yet.”
One of the men, a muscle-bound brute, steps boldly forward and as he pulls at his shirt’s fabric says, “Are these a joke?” He stares at David for a moment, then adds, “I mean c’mon, red shirts!”
David turns his attention to the muscular man before him, and replies, “I know you all think you’re hardcore soldiers.” He pauses and casts his eyes over the hundred and twenty men. All wearing bright red t-shirts.” He adds, “But if what I have read is even half true, you’re all as good as dead men. So, listen up if you want to live through this tour.”
The group remains quiet. They all signed waivers when they joined the ship, and for all intents and purposes, are mercenaries now. They report to no country, or recognized military. The man before them is their commander.
David continues, “You’re wearing red shirts for two reasons. First, so I don’t accidently rough up any of the ship’s crew,” he motions to a group that sits nearby, then as they become restless, continues. “Second, you all know what happens to red shirts? Right.”
Some of the men before him are too young to understand the reference, the rest either roll their eyes, or groan inwardly. The muscular man speaks up again, but this time, his tone is collected, “You got any intel on what might be out there?” He shrugs his shoulders then adds, “All we get is rumors.”
David replies, “Yeah, I do.” He pauses as he debates what to share with them, and then bluntly states, “Many of you will die on this mission. The question is how will you go? On your knees begging, running away like cowards, or charging the enemy with explosives strapped to your backs.”
“Uh, I did not sign up for a suicide mission.” Calls out a nervous voice from the crowd.
A chorus of others add their sentiments while David simply stands before them, his hands behind his back.
When the room becomes silent again, David speaks firmly, “Soldiers, follow me to the zero-g room for your first lesson. The rest can leave the ship, the choice is yours.”
With that, David strides out of the room. Thirty-seven would be mercenaries remove their red shirts and leave, never to return. The remaining eighty-three souls follow David. Either their pride, or the paychecks, keeps them on board.
Boxes of safety glasses await them all outside the zero-G room. David hands a pair to each man, then picks up a pretty ordinary looking paint gun. While the men put on their glasses, David addresses the group. “Sometimes we are faced with an opponent so overpowering, we have no choice but to charge in and accept the casualties.”
The men stare at each other in confusion, but no one speaks. David continues, “I will stand in the doorway to the room and all of you will start at the far wall. Oh, by the way, the gravity is off. To win, one of you must touch me, that’s all.”
“But, you have a weapon,” intones one of the men.
“Yes, and if you’re hit in the head or chest, you’re out, nothing else counts.” David loads a small box of one hundred rounds into the paint gun’s oversized hopper and says, “I have one hundred rounds, and no reload. Let’s do this.”
None of them make it to David on the first attempt, or the second. Time and time again they run the exercise, until finally one of the soldiers touches David, before he is shot.
David stares at the paint speckled group, then says to the man who touched him, “You may now address me as Dog.” He turns to the group and says, “Shower and rest. We will continue in the morning.”
Late that night, David sneaks into their barracks. He shoots almost all of them with p
aintballs before they react. It is the last night the men fail to post guards. Over the next few weeks David relentlessly shoots his men. Nowhere is safe, not the mess hall, the showers, not anywhere. The men begin to explore the ship, looking for places to either hide, or to surprise their battle scared leader.
Three weeks pass before David is satisfied with his men. He strides confidently onto the bridge, and finding Cindy alone, speaks, “The men are getting better. Soon you will have the most cunning and ruthless group ever assembled. All of them will be hell bent on winning.”
Cindy has been receiving reports, and complaints, from all over the ship. Paint ball rounds have struck kitchen hands, reactor crews, and even Patrick’s suit as he was walking along. She narrows her eyes and replies, “Your training is effecting other departments.”
“Good,” David replies, “They need to learn that if my men come charging in, no matter what they’re doing, they need to get to safety.”
Cindy shakes her head and says, “But we’re on Earth, refitting and loading the ship for the mission.”
David grins widely, “And everyone on board will learn to get down at the first sign of trouble.” He adds questioningly, “My job is to protect the crew of this ship, isn’t it?”
Cindy sighs, then recalls the people who died during their long trek home, simply because they failed to act. She puts a hand to her chin, then after a few seconds, replies, “Your own men are complaining. Another three left the ship last night.”
“If they think I am pushing them now, wait ‘till we launch,” David says with a devilish grin. He adds sincerely, “We can’t afford to have cowards on my team anyway. Let ‘em go, I say.”
“How many men do you have left?” Cindy asks. Even though she has a rough idea of the number, she is curious to hear his response.
“Sixty-seven, but two more are planning to sneak off the ship tonight.”
“Almost half the men!” Cindy shakes her head, she did not know that two more were planning on leaving, and is quite surprised by how many are quitting. She adds, “That’s a lot, and I thought we contracted the best of the best!”
David nods in agreement and says, “The ones that left were probably posers and wannabes anyway. Warriors on paper only, we want the real deal.”
Cindy stares at David for a few moments, measuring him, and then replies, “Well. Radclyf speaks highly of you, and I respect his opinion, so carry on.”
David leans closer to Cindy, and with deadly conviction says, “I will protect your crew, no matter the cost.” He does not wait for a reply, but instead turns and strides off the bridge. His combat boots mark his passage.
As the sound of his footfalls fade Cindy ponders their exchange. Then she recalls the close call they had with the mysterious and deadly Effen Raiders. Her thoughts drift on, leaving George on that planet was a tough decision. How he survived the fall was just miraculous, and we got extremely lucky by getting him back onboard. She looks forward and out the main view at the Australian desert before her and sighs. Yet here we are, about to head back to an area of space that Regent Voknor himself warned, is too dangerous for us. I really hope the benefits outweigh the risks.
Gazing back at the doorway, she whispers quietly, “I hope we don’t need you and your mercenaries,” she sighs, then adds, “but if we do, I hope you give them hell.” She turns her attention back to her console for a few more moments, then suddenly stops what she is doing. Tapping the intercom button, she addresses the crew, “Attention all; this is Cindy, your commander.” She pauses, gathers her thoughts, and then continues. “We shall be departing Earth in approximately ten days, those of you who wish to visit friends and family, should do so this week.”
Cindy stands and stretches, then leaves the bridge. She finds John, who happily flies her to Germany to visit Lisa. Cindy also visits her family, a few close friends, then she turns to business, and requisitions a variety of supplies and equipment.
Final Inspection
Standing atop the Terran’s hull affords the small group a great view of the surrounding desert, and the vast expanse of the Terran. John, George, and Patrick, all stare down at a circular weld.
Pointing to it Joe says, “This one is over the hydroponics area, just like the other over there.” He points at another weld, and then says. “The three repaired hull breaches over the hangar deck have also been inspected.”
George kneels, then rubs his hands over the weld. He glances up, squints in the bright sunlight, and says, “We thought they cut through the ship with their bodysuits, but I think this was done by a more powerful and specialized device.”
Joe stares at the repair efforts and says, “Do we want to take these sections out, and replace them?”
“I don’t think we have to,” George replies confidently, “It looks like the repair crews did a fabulous job.”
The men are still awed by the effectiveness of the cutting tool used by the Effen Raiders. The Terran’s armor and outer superstructure were cut cleanly down to the ship’s external hull plating. The cutting tool continued through this, and the internal superstructure, until finally breaching the inner hull. That the raiders achieved this in less than a couple of minutes, is most remarkable, and a sobering fact to the group.
George breaks their thoughts when he nods to John and says, “Let’s go and check out the new thrusters.”
John raises his eyebrows and asks curiously, “New thrusters?”
George grins as he shakes his head, “Yes. To replace the ones you scraped off when you sideswiped that raider.”
“Oh, those,” John replies innocently.
Joe shakes his head and asks, “Did you forget they were missing?”
“No, not really. I just got used to not having them,” John replies with a shrug of his shoulders.
The men spend hours examining the upper hull. Joe wipes his forehead as he comments, “From inside it’s easy to forget that this thing is three kilometers long, and almost a kilometer wide.”
John chuckles as he comments, “She does have big hips, and some long legs.”
The men chuckle at the feminine references to the wide main hull, and the pair of main engines which stretch out from behind the Terran.
Joe grins with pride, “She’s a beauty.”
The three men make their way to the ground, where they spend more time scrutinizing the ship’s underside. The group highlights a few sections for repair, but overall the outer hull is in surprisingly good condition.
At the end of the inspection, John adds his thoughts, “You know, the Kord did an amazing job repairing the ship.” He turns to George and adds, “Between the high-speed run, and ramming the space station, we got lucky, very lucky.”
George nods in agreement and replies, “It seemed for a while there, that all we did was repair the armor.”
Joe frowns as his thoughts drift, then he says, “The Kord repaired our hull, but not to Gamin specifications.”
John’s jaw drops a little, then after a few moments he replies, “You’re right!”
George shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head while adding his thoughts, “I don’t see how that’s a huge revelation.”
Joe puts a hand to his head then says, “They managed to repair the hull, and yet did not fix the gravity plating.”
George sighs, “I am sure they just wanted us out of their hair.”
John chuckles at George’s unintended joke, then playfully thumps Patrick on the arm.
George frowns, gets the joke, and says, “They definitely have hair.”
The men laugh, then begin the long walk back to the Terran’s open ramp. As the group makes their way inside, Joe stops for a moment and stares with pride at the pair of elevators on the main hangar deck; another feat of engineering accomplished by the teams of specialists on board. His eyes rove up and down the walkways of the twenty levels that represent the ship’s main decks.
Robert McKnight walks over to the waiting group and smiles. He follows Joe’s
upward gaze and mistakes the object of his stare and asks, “So those are the newly modified GAU’s?”
Joe’s eyes flick to one as he hears the words. He stares at the powerful weapon for a few seconds, then replies, “Pretty impressive, aren’t they?”
“What was wrong with the other ones?” Robert asks curiously.
Joe replies, “The Avenger models were a great idea, but these,” the corners of his mouth lift in a smile before he continues, “Well. These have even stronger barrels, and a lot more ammo. There is no official designator for them, but we call them Retribution.”
Robert shakes his head in disbelief, “I don’t see how we could ever use all the ammo you guys loaded.”
“Hope you’re right”, Joe replies as he turns his gaze to the recently installed Gamin power unit. It occupies an area near the useless, but still connected, Kord Power Unit. The entire area around the Kord technology is cordoned off, to protect those who would dare get to close.
The group spends the remainder of the day touring the rest of the ship. The next few days are spent tackling the list generated by the tour, then George returns to his family. The crew of the Terran begins loading vast quantities of supplies, in preparation for its imminent departure.
Peter enters the bridge, seeing most of the bridge crew there, he walks up to Cindy and stands before her. No one mistakes his somber expression or demeanor, and all remain quiet as they wait for him to tell them why they have been summoned.
Peter glances around one more time, then in a low serious tone relays his words. “When Emma and I were on New Earth exploring the lake, we discovered what we thought was fishing line, tangled in a tree. It was out of place, and in an area that was overgrown by the local fauna. But what interested us most, was how difficult it was to cut.” He pauses, ensuring he has their undivided attention, then continues. “Well, it’s not fishing line at all. In fact, it’s an extremely advanced data cable that has the scientists who are testing it baffled, because it is still able to transfer information.”
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 111