by Olson, Ry
. . .
“Martin, wake up.” Maria yelled as she shook Martin’s shoulders, his body thrashing next to her. “Please, Martin, wake up.” She pleaded through her tears.
Martin’s eyes snapped open, glassy with panic. He grabbed Maria’s arms as she shook him, and stared at her.
“It was a dream, Martin. Only a stupid dream.” She whispered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. He settled down. “Martin?”
He pulled her into his arms and held her tight to his chest. “A nightmare, just a nightmare.” He sighed, comforting both of them.
. . .
When Maria went on duty Martin went to Charlie’s Place, he saw Briton and Reese sitting off in a corner. “Gentlemen.”
Briton nodded to a chair as Reese smiled and rumbled. “Now there’s a sight for sore eyes. Sit.”
Martin turned the chair backwards and settled in straddling it with his arms resting on the seatback. A cup of coffee materialized on the table in front of him. He nodded a silent thanks to Reese’s smile and took a sip. “So how goes the war as seen from the top?”
“Just as fouled up as it looks like from any other angle.” Reese sighed with a sad smile. “Just a tad better view, I suspect.”
Briton gave one of his rare smiles. “The only good place to watch a train wreck is from a distance.” The smile faded. “A luxury we don’t have.” He looked Martin in the eyes for a moment. “Martin, what’s your take on what’s going on out there? You always seem to have a good insight on what’s happening.”
Martin raised his eyebrows. “I guess I’m a little slow this morning. Isn’t that something I should be asking you?”
“Probably not gettin’ any sleep,” Reese chuckled.
Briton shot Reese with a dour glance. “Oh, I’ve got the facts and figures . . . along with intelligence’s analysis of what’s happening. But you’ve been up and down the line, seeing and hearing first hand. No amount of data can take the place of that information.”
Martin rested his chin on his arms. “It’s changing out there. We’re not getting into as many fights with the Koth, but the ones we get into seem more vicious.”
“Except for our sector,” Briton frowned. “We’ve been getting hit hard and heavy. Our group alone makes up for 50 percent of the battles. If it wasn’t for the continuous flow of replacements and supplemental warcraft we’d have been forced to pull back a long time ago.” Briton gave an introspective chuckle. “This battle group is the largest in the Federation and by all rights should be commanded by an Admiral . . . not a lowly Commander.”
A Commander that’s getting the job done. Martin thought. He pursed his lips and continued after a sip of coffee. “It’s like the Koth are getting more desperate.”
“Somebody must not of told them they’re winning this little fracas.” Reese muttered just over his breath.
“Hmmm,” Briton leaned back in his chair. “That’s my instinct too . . . Intelligence sees it, but can’t get a feel for what it could mean.”
Martin studied his coffee cup for a moment. “I mean they’re getting more desperate about driving this group back. We’re what now, a thousand light years beyond the rest of the front, a thumb sticking into their controlled space? For some reason our presence is a real thorn in their side.”
“I’d buy that, except strategically it makes no sense.” Briton shook his head. “This group is the furthest from the human occupied region . . . and the direction they have historically wanted to go. We should be a tactical nuisance and nothing more. Quite frankly, we don’t rate the amount of attention they’ve been giving us.”
Martin considered Briton’s comment for a moment. “I also think it’s a time thing . . . I don’t know why. It just has that ‘feel’ to it, like they need to get it done and over now, and not just our group. I mean the entire war.”
“After what, twenty five some odd years, now they’re in a hurry.” Reese shook his head.
“Something’s changed out there. I feel you’re absolutely right, Martin. But what? A palace revolt?” Briton gritted his teeth for a second. “We just know so little about them.”
Martin’s vidphone buzzed. “Oops, gotta go. Talk to you later.”
. . .
Martin answered his vidphone and was surprised to see Will’s solemn face.
“Hi Martin.” Will greeted his brother quietly.
“Will.” Martin studied his older sibling’s somber features for a moment. “It’s mom, isn’t it?” He felt a dull pain in his chest.
“Yeah, she’s dying . . . they’ve done all they can do.” Will shook off sniffle.
Martin’s world turned a little grey. “How long do they give her?” He didn’t want to cause Will pain, but he needed to ask for his own piece of mind.
“A month, six weeks tops.” Will seemed to sink into himself. “She keeps asking about you . . . she really wants to see you again.”
“Damn.” Martin sagged. “How’s everyone else doing?”
“Dad’s accepted the inevitable. I think in some way he’ll be glad when it’s all over. Angel’s really taking it hard . . . plus she’s carrying a lot of guilt about not telling mom and dad about you.”
“God, I’m sorry. You guys don’t deserve this.”
“It’s ok Martin.” Will offered a weak smile. “It’s not like you asked to become a cyborg . . . shit happens.”
Martin gave his brother a sad nod at the ancient comment on life. It’s as true now as the first time it was uttered. Martin contemplated the destroyed scout group with its missing warborgs and his conversation with Briton and Reese for a moment, then made some quick mental calculations. “I’m coming home, Will.”
“What . . . why?” Will, stuttered. “I didn’t think you were allowed to come to Earth. And what good would it do if you were here? It’s not like you can come to the family picnic or anything.”
“I know, Will.” Martin sighed. “I can’t explain it. Through it all I’m still family . . . it’s just something I have to do.” Martin shook his head. “I know it makes no sense. I just . . .”
Will just stared at Martin for a moment before saying anything. “It’s your decision Martin.” He gave a resigned smile. “Just don’t do anything stupid little bro.”
“Me? Something stupid?” Martin had his first real laugh in what seemed like days. “And I may be able to come for a visit . . . of sorts.”
“Okay,” Will cocked an eyebrow at his brother.
“I need to run and get things ready for the trip.” Martin smiled, feeling a little better for making the decision.
“All right,” Will frowned at Martin. “But you be careful, a visit home isn’t worth your career, kiddoe.”
“I know,” Martin sighed. “And Will, I’m going to be out of touch for a few weeks, so don’t be alarmed if you can’t contact me.”
Will smiled for the first time in the conversation. “Shades of your scouting days, you just watch your ass out there.”
“I will,” Martin nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”
Will gave Martin a quiet nod and faded from the vidphone.
Now I get to go lie through my teeth to those I know and trust. Martin sighed. I only hope they’ll forgive me.
. . .
Martin, Reese and Commander Briton were gathered around a holotank showing the position of the entire length of the battle front. It vaguely resembled the side of a hand with the thumb pointing out. A red line appeared from the tip of the thumb where the battle group was located to the tip of the index finger on the far side of the front.
“That’s quite a haul.” Reese commented as he studied the proposed route.
“Yes it is, I figure it will take a little over three weeks for the run.” Martin nodded.
Briton contemplated the route and Martin. “That’s going to put you deep in Koth occupied space during part of the trip. You’ll be running silent for a long time.”
“Yes Sir, but that’s what this ship was designed for.
” Martin smiled. “And we need any kind of information on what they’re up to.”
“Very true,” Briton gave a quick nod. “Carry on and God speed, Major.”
“Thank you Sir.” Martin snapped a salute. “I’ll be leaving within the hour.”
Commander Briton returned the salute with a smile. “Very good. Oh by the way”, he commented, “Lieutenant Hayes is on her way back in her new gunfighter.”
“Really, that was quick.” He smiled at the memory of the feisty Lieutenant. “How’s it look?”
This time Briton gave a reserved grin. “Better than anything we could have imagined. I saw a replay of her ship’s trials. Impressive . . . very impressive. They actually are sending a group of four gunfighters.”
Reese’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t know that.” He turned to Martin. “You should have seen her in the trials, that tincan is one danged nasty piece of work. Four of them . . . now this could get down right interesting.”
Martin’s face pinched. “Well gentlemen, I have one more good-bye then I’m off.”
Reese offered a solemn smile. “It’ll be all right, she’s been expecting it I reckon.”
Briton gave a sad nod in agreement.
27: The Long Road Home
Martin shut down the yacht simulation and just seemed to be drifting through space with Prowler sitting in his lap. They’d been traveling for six days and during the last four they were running silent. Martin scratched the top of Prowler’s head. “Sure is quiet out here,” He sighed. We’re getting pretty deep into Koth territory. I guess I expected more activity. This is almost spooky. He settled in a bit, letting the stars mesmerize him as they slowly floated by. “We’re a shadowy phantom just passing through little fella.” He smiled at his AI buddy. “Let’s just hope it stays that way.” The last thing he saw was Prowler’s big yellow eyes as he dozed off.
Martin was jarred awake by Prowler’s low growl and his movement as he stared into empty space. Martin blinked himself awake. “What’s out there fella . . . show me?” A small red dot appeared, seeming to float in empty space. As Martin watched several more dots appeared sequentially in a random pattern. “A reconnaissance drone?” Martin muttered. “Way out here, deep in their own territory?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This don’t make no sense . . . even for the Koth.” It’s just bouncing all over the place, not really going anywhere. “Maybe it’s malfunctioning.” He speculated out loud. Prowler’s ears flattened. A second drone popped into view showing up as yellow dots. Martin watched in silence as two more drones were spotted. They all were jumping in the same random fashion as the first. “I’d buy one malfunctioning, but not four.” Three more showed up as he contemplated their existence. “Be on your toes fella, I don’t think they’ll spot us, but we better be ready if one does.” Prowler answered with a slow blink.
For the next several hours Martin watched in silent amazement as they passed through literally hundreds of the drones. “They’re patrolling!” Prowler, show me a wide view, time history of all the drones we’ve spotted, link the dots for the individual drones. Martin’s view of space shifted dramatically. The linked dots formed a deep, dense, over lapping net. It was very noticeable it was a sensor barrier when observed in its entirety. “Go to a sector view and extrapolate this pattern across the sector.”
Again Martin’s view shifted. He sucked in his breath. “Oh my God.” The field of drones formed an immense wall that slowly curved back toward Koth occupied territory as it faded from the simulation in all directions. Martin noted they couldn’t see through to the other side. How thick is this thing . . . or is it solid? Martin’s gut tightened. “Show me our path.”
Martin studied a white line pulsing in the barrier. It entered at a shallow tangent to the curve of the barrier and was still driving in deeper as it faded at the edge of the view. “This ain’t good, fella.” He sagged a little as he considered their options. If we change course there’s too good a chance one of the drones will detect the change in the FTL field. If we drop into sublight space we should be all right running silent, but it will take months to work our way back out, and then if we try to jump it’ll be like a flash bulb in a darkroom to them. On Martin’s command a small instrument consol faded in next to him. Thirty hours before I’m going to have to regen the FTL field, thirty six if I want to push our luck. Martin shuddered at the thought of their FTL field collapsing and dropping them into normal space. It would be noisy, and his ship would take fifteen seconds to re-establish the FTL field from a cold start. Martin studied the simulation for a second. Even though it was off the edge of the simulation, it was painfully obvious they would still be deep in the barrier after thirty hours. His ship had a quiet regen, but would it be quiet enough? “Steady as she goes little buddy.”
. . .
Martin checked the time. It had been twelve hours since he made his decision to continue. Sometimes I’m glad I’m not a bio. I’d be soaked with sweat and have stomach cramps from hell by now. Another drone blinked in and out, well within its sensor range. It didn’t self destruct. Martin blew out yet another held breath. He closed his eyes and sucked in a huge breath. So far, so good.
The thought was splintered with Prowler’s low hiss. Martin’s eyes sprang open just as two drones self destructed at the very limit of his detection. What the hell!! A heartbeat later several FTL jump signatures[8] appeared in the area, followed by a smattering of microjump signatures, then nothing. Martin tensely waited. A few moments later a single larger signature appeared. “Steady fella.” Martin muttered, more to himself that Prowler. He watched as the two drones were replaced and all the ships jumped several minutes later. “Now what was that all about?”
. . .
“Show that again, one tenth speed.” Martin requested. He closely observed as each ship arrived on the scene. As they came into view each was tagged as a ship type by comparing their field signatures to a database of known ship types. There was no correlation for the initial ship. The next to arrive were two Koth strike fighters followed immediately by three Koth light fighters. The last to arrive was a rarely seen Koth tactical transport ship. Only the Koth ships displayed a signature when they left, the mystery ship never established an FTL field again. Martin didn’t even notice a couple drones come and go as he contemplated what he had observed.
“That was an intercept,” Martin mused, thinking aloud. “But who did they intercept?” The missing warborgs? No, the field signature is totally wrong for any type of human ship. “Besides, a warborg would have kicked their butts . . . unless he was really damaged,” Martin fretted as he stared out into the blackness.
“Hell, we’ve got more pressing business than worrying about this.” Martin shook his head and held Prowler a little closer. “They had ships there in just a couple seconds . . . HOW? We gotta be more careful that I could ever have dreamed fella.” Martin’s thoughts drifted from their plight back to the far off battle. He snapped up right. “Prowler, the Koth jumped and the drones didn’t care!” Martin slapped himself on the forehead. “How could I be so thick?” The goddamned drones ignore known Koth FTL field signatures. Otherwise the Koth couldn’t operate in their own barrier. “God I’m stupid. Arghhh.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Prowler, we need to make like a Koth in here. Find a Koth FTL signature and reconfigure our systems to match it. You got that?” Prowler gave him a lazy meow and started grooming. Always a good sign. Martin thought as he smiled down on his little buddy.
. . .
Sixteen hours later Martin wasn’t so sure. He had managed to get a couple hours of sleep, but the stress being continuously buzzed by the drones and the lingering questions about the distant fight were taking a toll. The only Koth signature Prowler was able to match with the human ship was a little used light missile frigate. “Fighting the Koth is like fighting a bunch of old lady librarians. They’re not really much in a head to head fight, but they never fail to nit pick details,” He muttered. I don’t think they’d take
a piss without a plan. He shook his head as he studied the archive about the Koth frigate. They used to be all over the place when the Koth were attacking human installations. Now they were almost non-existent, the last sighting of one was over six months ago. Martin sighed. Well, if there’s anybody who would still maintain them as an active ship it would be the Koth. “Besides, all the Koth ships would have to pass through this mess on their way to the front. So I guess it stands to reason if there are any of them still active they’d be let through,” Martin mused, more to reassure himself than anything else. “These friggin’ drones are as thick as flies,” he grated studying the area around his ship. Another drone passed by as he watched.
. . .
“Now let me get this straight,” Martin muttered shaking his head. “I’m going to drop into normal space in an area ass deep in reconnaissance drones, slowly dissipate my FTL field, and only way to get the hell out of Dodge by the way. Then casually cold generate a field that the drones may or may not ignore.” He shook his head and laughed. “What am I . . . stupid?” Like we have any real choice. Shit! Martin took a deep breath and blew it slowly out. “Ok fella, let’s do it. You’ve got control, make it as quiet as you can. I wanna’ be a hole in space.” He held his breath.
Normal space slowly faded into view and Martin marveled at his AI’s absolute control. A drone blinked in and out, no self destruction. He watched in silent concentration as Prowler bled off the FTL field. Another drone came and went. So far, so good, was his fleeting thought while he studied his instruments with clinical interest as Prowler adjusted settings all over the ship. A drone blinked through just a few hundred meters from the ship and Martin felt a knot of primal fear start to form. Trying to make the Star Panther look like a Koth ship. I must be crazy. What seemed like hours later Prowler signaled he was ready. Martin checked the time, barely three minutes had passed. Martin gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. “Do it!”