“You think that piece of gnome DNA is starting to affect my judgment?” Richard said more as a statement than a question.
“Could be,” replied Nickelo. “The little bit of orc DNA in you has certainly influenced your stubbornness over the years. It’s about time some of your better qualities started bubbling to the surface.”
“Well, regardless of whatever influence that DNA cocktail of yours had,” said Sergeant Ron, “the end result is we’re short one Warcat. General Stevens isn’t going to appreciate you losing her cat.”
Richard was still getting used to hearing the rank of general associated with the crafty-old special operations leader. Richard had served under her when she was just a commander. Now General Stevens was in charge of all special operations forces in Districts 2, 5, and 7. And, Richard knew his battle computer was right. General Stevens would not appreciate him losing her Warcat. She’d gone out on a limb transferring her asset to a rundown mercenary outfit in District 2.
“Well, I’ll have to make it up to her somehow,” Richard said. “In the meantime, General Stevens will just have to order a replacement.”
“Ha!” said Sergeant Ron. “You’ve obviously been out of the loop. Since the supply depot in District 11 got overrun last month by the Crosioians, spare parts are difficult to get. Even older models of cats are becoming scarce much less a new replacement model.”
“He’s right, Rick,” chimed in Nickelo. “The Empire’s going broke. Without full tele-network access I can’t know for sure, but from the intermittent data I’ve been able to glean through my security interfaces, the Empire is on the ropes. They’ve started stripping equipment from planetary reserve units to equip their active-duty forces.”
“Are you sure?” Richard said doubtfully. “I saw a Deloris Conglomerate unit last week, and they had plenty of equipment. It looked nearly new as far as I could tell.”
The Conglomerate was a loosely organized consortium of manufacturing companies led by the Deloris Armament’s Corporation. The Conglomerate maintained a quasi-military force which had slowly been replacing planetary self-defense forces in order to free up the regular military units for duty on the front lines. Richard had fought with some Conglomerate units during the battle for the Academy’s airfield the previous year. While their soldiers were brave enough, they were nowhere near as well trained as their active-duty counterparts such as the Marine units Richard was accustomed to.
“Don’t get me started on the Conglomerate,” said Sergeant Ron. “If you ask me, they’re quickly becoming too involved with planetary defenses. I think they’re more concerned about advancing the political ambitions of the Deloris Armament’s Corporation than they are the defense of the planets where they’re assigned.”
Sergeant Ron got a disgusted look on his face. “If things keep going the way they are, half the Empire’s going to be de facto planets belonging to the Conglomerate. The Conglomerate was a good idea when old Jacob Deloris first organized it eighty years ago. But it’s changed over the last forty years. Jacob would roll over in his grave if he knew what his great grandchildren were doing to his company.”
“Uh, Sergeant Ron,” Richard cautioned. “You should probably watch what you say. You know there’s undoubtedly some tele-bots right here in the cockpit with us.”
“So what?” replied Sergeant Ron getting a little red-faced. “I wouldn’t say anything behind the Conglomerate’s lying back I wouldn’t say to their face.”
Glancing around the cockpit, Sergeant Ron shouted, “Did you get all that, you bunch of political backstabbers? I’ll repeat it if you need me too. I think you’re trying to take over the Empire one little piece at a time before anyone knows you’re up to no good.”
“Sergeant Ron!” Richard said getting increasingly nervous by his maintenance chief’s loose talk. He couldn’t figure out why his friend was getting so worked up. He didn’t like the Conglomerate all that much either, but it wasn’t worth risking a court martial over.
“This is no joke, Sergeant Ron. There are Conglomerate personnel on the Imperial High Council. They’ll have access to any tele-bot data.”
“Well, guess what, buddy,” said Sergeant Ron gritting his teeth. “I don’t care. And I’ve got news for you. Most of the tele-bots are manufactured by subsidiaries of the Conglomerate. I wouldn’t put it past them to install unauthorized software in order to allow them to receive all the data even if they didn’t have members on the council.”
“Uh…,” Richard started, but then he stopped. He’d worried about the same thing before, but he’d always talked himself out of it as a silly idea. “I’ve always assumed all communications passing through the tele-network were secure; unless they were being hacked by the Empire’s enemies of course.”
Well, you’ve assumed wrong, came Nickelo’s voice in their shared space. I calculate Sergeant Ron’s mostly correct. The Conglomerate probably does use the tele-bots to glean data they deem useful. The only exception would be information the central computer wanted to keep secret.
Like our missions? Richard asked.
Yes, replied Nickelo. Things like that.
Richard made a mental note to encrypt even seemingly harmless messages from now on before he sent them over the tele-network.
I don’t think that would be wise, said Nickelo still speaking into their shared space. Too many encrypted messages would just draw more attention to you. If I could make a suggestion, why don’t you let me determine what should and shouldn’t be encrypted.
Richard didn’t have to think about his answer long. He had an above average intelligence, but he didn’t think fast. And, he hated thinking about things which didn’t interest him.
Fine by me, Richard said. I’ll set up an area in our shared space where you can use my Power to encrypt data packets when required.
“Hey,” interrupted Sergeant Ron. “Are you guys going to include me in the conversation? You’ve got that blank look on your face again.”
“Sorry,” Richard said. “Uh…, we were just talking about how to go about repairing my battle suit.”
“Sure you were,” said Sergeant Ron. “And I’ve got some valuable swamp land back on Velos I’ll sell you real cheap.”
“Uh…,” Richard said momentarily confused. “I really don’t need–”
“He was being sarcastic, Rick,” said Nickelo out loud for Sergeant Ron’s benefit. “He’s just letting you know he doesn’t believe you. Just so you know, I gave Sergeant Ron a copy of the book ‘Cute Sayings and Slang of 20th through 21st Century America’ by Robert R. Fitzgerald.”
“Oh, that’s just great, Nick,” Richard said hoping he was sounding sarcastic but not sure he was succeeding. “The last thing I need is another person speaking your little euphemisms. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome,” said Nickelo and Sergeant Ron at the same time.
They both started laughing. After a few seconds, Richard did as well.
Chapter 5 – Life on the Defiant
_____________________________________
After he’d slept for a couple of hours and cleaned up, Richard made his way to the Defiant’s small kitchen. Once there, he walked to the ship’s pantry looking for something to eat. He chose a packet of dehydrated stew. Turning to the non-human side of the pantry, Richard plucked a packet of dried Sterilian worms out of a cabinet.
Returning to the kitchen, Richard dumped the contents of the packets into large bowls. After adding water from the hydro-faucet to each bowl, he placed covers over the contents and stuck them in separate heating units. Then he sat down to wait.
From months of watching Charlie prepare his meals, Richard knew the Sterilian’s food had to be heated slowly. If he tried to cook the worms too fast, they wouldn’t rehydrate properly, and the worms would die. After making the mistake once, Richard had learned Sterilians hated eating food that wasn’t squirming around on their plates. His ears still burned from the chewing out Charlie had given him for destroying perfe
ctly good worms.
Richard set the re-hydrator for the stew at a higher temperature, but not too high. Surprisingly, he enjoyed cooking. It took his mind off more serious matters and helped him relax. Plus, he’d discovered he had a knack for it. He liked adding his own mixture of spices to items while they were cooking. He’d been forced to eat a lot of bland food over the years; especially when he’d been in the orphanage. A couple of years ago, he’d decided whenever he got a chance to make his food taste better, he was going to go for it. Like he’d told his battle computer, there was plenty of time to suffer when he had no other choice. Fortunately, he had a choice now.
In theory, fully-trained wizard scouts didn’t need to eat or even sleep for that matter. But, theory was a long way from reality. A wizard scout’s healing Power considered the lack of sleep or nutrition an injury. As such, it healed the wizard scout’s body accordingly. However, it used Power from their reserve to do so. Consequently, most wizard scouts preferred to eat and sleep at least a little whenever possible in order to keep their Power reserve at maximum. Since normal wizard scouts only had a single Power reserve, any Power they used for healing themselves was Power they didn’t have available for offense and defense and vice versa.
Fortunately for Richard, he had three Power reserves. His smallest Power reserve could only be used for healing others. His normal Power reserve could be used for offense and defense. Richard’s third Power reserve could only be used to heal his own body. His self-healing was hardwired in that it automatically healed injuries to bring his body back to baseline whether he wanted it to or not. Richard had been a little hungry and a little sleepy when he’d gotten his DNA baseline taken. Consequently, his selfheal ability considered it an injury if he overate, and it automatically healed him back to baseline. Unfortunately, that happened to be a little bit hungry and tired. Given the dilemma, Richard found grazing a little bit of food several times a day not only kept his hunger at bay, but it kept his body from using too much Power from his self-healing reserve.
After the stew was ready, Richard ladled it into two bowls and took them to the cockpit. He gave Sergeant Ron the lion’s share of the stew. Once they were done eating, Richard returned to the kitchen and stuck the bowls into the cleaning unit.
When he could put it off no longer, Richard opened the door of the re-hydrator where he’d placed the Sterilian worms. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Apparently, he’d gotten the temperature right because the worms were lively. They had somehow raised the bowl’s lid and crawled out onto the bottom of the re-hydrator. Scrapping the loose worms back into their bowl with a spoon, Richard replaced the lid and headed for the cargo bay.
Once Richard slid down the ladder, he spotted Charlie tinkering with a piece of equipment on one of the maintenance benches.
“Come and get it,” Richard said as he headed in the old Sterilian’s direction.
Charlie put down his tools and sniffed the air. “Smells good. You learn well.”
“I aim to please,” Richard said laughing. “Besides, I’ve had a good teacher. The next time I link up with Stella, I’ll be able to cook her a full-course meal of worms, bugs, and other squirming things I’d prefer not to think about.”
Taking the bowl from Richard, Charlie placed it on the table. The old Sterilian didn’t remove the lid right away. Richard was surprised. Charlie was normally one of those eaters who got down to business immediately.
Looking down at his bowl, Charlie said, “Yes. Wizard Scout Stella would be pleased. How is she?”
Richard was puzzled. He noticed the skin on Charlie’s chest darken to a deeper gray. Richard was curious. He’d seen his friend Stella do the same thing whenever she was embarrassed.
“Uh…,” Richard said trying to find the right words. “I haven’t spoken to her in a couple of months. The last I heard, she was on a mission in District 4.”
“Oh,” said Charlie.
Richard noticed Sergeant Ron’s mechanic still hadn’t opened the lid on his bowl.
“She good wizard scout,” said Charlie. “She be okay.”
“Well, of course she will,” Richard said growing confused. “She’s one of the best.”
“Good,” grunted Charlie.
With that, Charlie finally uncovered his bowl of worms, but he still didn’t begin eating. Several of the worms took their momentary respite to try and make an escape across the table.
“I glad she be safe,” said Charlie.
“Yeah, me too,” Richard replied continuing to eye the old lizard.
Without another word of explanation, Charlie began eating with gusto. Richard turned away. While he’d eaten a lot of meals with other races over the years, he still didn’t enjoy watching Charlie spoon squirming worms into his mouth. Richard took the opportunity to go over to the maintenance table where his battle suit was laid out. A fist-size hole in its left shoulder drew his attention.
That looks bad, Richard thought in his shared space. Do you think they can fix it?
Richard had never been to the planet Storage where his equipment was kept. However, between information he’d gotten from Nickelo as well as his niece and nephew, Richard knew the population of the entire planet was dedicated to maintaining the items used by variables for ‘the One’.
Oh, I suspect the technicians on Storage will enjoy the challenge, replied Nickelo. Just send it back. They’ll send you one of your undamaged battle suits until they get this one fixed.
Shrugging his shoulders, Richard willed his dimensional pack to him. Reaching out with his hand, he plucked the pack out of the air before it fell. Once he had the pack, he opened the flap and began stuffing the battle suit inside. The flexible material fit easily enough through the pack’s opening.
Whenever his battle suit was un-energized, it had the consistency and appearance of soft leather. It was also similar in weight. However, when worn and energized with Power from its isotopic battery, the battle suit had the strength of brerellium steel. It also had the weight to match. Since the suit was un-energized at the moment, it was an easy feat to roll up and place in his pack.
Once he finished sending his damaged battle suit back to Storage, Richard sat down in a convenient chair and turned around to face Charlie. Unfortunately, the old Sterilian was still eating. Richard stared at Charlie for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. He decided to get his battle computer’s take on his friend.
What do you think the deal was with all that talk about Stella? Richard said into his shared space. Charlie sounded a little strange to me.
Rick, Rick, chided Nickelo. We’ve go to work on your emotional logic more. Charlie’s a Sterilian. Your friend Stella is a Sterilian. One plus one equals ten. What do you think it means?
Uh…, one plus one equals two, Richard said wondering how his battle computer could make such an obvious mistake. And I’ve never even seen Charlie and Stella speak to each other. So, if you’re trying to imply Charlie has a crush on Stella, I’ll have to say you’re crazy.
First off, said Nickelo. One plus one equals ten in base two. You made the assumption I was using base ten. And you know what they same about assumptions, don’t you? In the same respect, you’re making the assumption Sterilians’ emotional responses work the same as yours. They don’t. So call me crazy if you like, but I think Charlie’s got the hots for your friend Stella.
The hots? Richard said as he tried to picture how anyone could think Stella was hot. Between her double row of serrated teeth and four muscular arms which could rip a man in half, the word hot was the last thing Richard would think to call her.
Shaking his head to clear the idea of ‘a hot’ Stella out of his mind, Richard said, Each to their own I guess. But Charlie’s like seventy years old. I seriously doubt he’s shopping for a girlfriend at this stage in his life.
Ha! laughed Nickelo. You need to read more. Charlie is only seventy-two standard-years old. The average life expectancy for a Sterilian is a little over two hundred standard years. Charlie�
��s still in his prime. And, just how old do you think your friend Stella is?
Uh…, I don’t know, Richard admitted. I assume she’s about the same age as me.
Not hardly, grasshopper, Nickelo replied with a snicker. According to her battle computer, Stella was forty-three when the two of you graduated from the Academy. So, there isn’t really that much difference between Charlie and her ages when all things are considered.
Richard took another look at Charlie. The old lizard was just scooping the last of the worms into his mouth.
Nope, Richard told himself. Maybe he’s not old. But it’s going to be hard to think of him any other way.
* * *
The next few hours found Richard helping Sergeant Ron and Charlie maintain the Defiant. As Sergeant Ron often put it, there wasn’t any room for idle hands on a starship, even if one set of the hands belonged to a highly-trained wizard scout. While Richard knew very little about maintaining equipment on a starship, he’d always been good at sensing lines of energy. Plus, he had an affinity for detecting flaws in computer operating systems. While he couldn’t program a single line of computer code, he could detect problem areas in their programming before they caused problems.
Wizard Omega (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 4) Page 8