Fleetfoot Interstellar: Fleetfoot Interstellar Series, Book 1

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Fleetfoot Interstellar: Fleetfoot Interstellar Series, Book 1 Page 25

by P. Joseph Cherubino


  Drexler cupped his face in his hands, then went back to work on the spreadsheet blinking away on his display scroll. His business plan still needed work.

  29

  Sslolg stepped over the threshold between his shuttle and the station airlock, and the stench of death hit him like a wet, leaky bag of rotten flesh. The bodies of five Reptiles lay surrounding a single Winged insectoid. The fight choreography was obvious. This single insect killed five Reptiles before being killed itself. The Reptiles in the airlock likely tried to hide here, but the Winged followed them inside, not caring whether it lived or died, only wanting to kill.

  To the crew, Sslolg said, “You may use breathing masks if you so choose.” The reek was difficult to bear for the message of defeat it contained, as much as its abject horror.

  Some of the crew took the opportunity to wear masks, others did not. Those that did not showed signs of brewing anger. Sslolg found this good, he could use that.

  “Proceed,” Sslolg said when the inner airlock door opened.

  The previously gleaming, white hallways with its wide band of transparent inner material was now scorched with energy weapons fire, stained with the soot of burnt Reptilian flesh and spattered with the shattered body parts of Reptiles and Insectoids alike.

  “How did they do this?” Gholss asked. He could not restrain himself.

  “They are fast. These soldiers were not trained in close-quarters combat.”

  “I don’t see any of the Nords,” Gholss remarked.

  Sslolg did not realize this until his First Officer pointed it out. The tall, pale humanoids were missing among the dead. Where had they gone?

  “Survey team,” Sslolg called to the boarding party, “Report all dead non-reptiles as you find them.”

  Sslolg, Gholss and a small armed guard made their way along the outer ring to a spoke that led them to the cylinder that formed the station's axis. Bodies grew more numerous the closer they got to the command decks.

  “This looks like the final battle,” Gholss said, stepping over a pile of dead reptiles Reptile as he neared the door.

  Sslolg reached out suddenly, seized his arm and pulled Gholss back violently. At first, Gholss thought he was being punished.

  “Wait,” Sslolg said. He retrieved a lighting device from his belt and projected its beam from the top to the bottom of the passage. “Do you see that? He asked.”

  When his group answered “no,” Sslolg retrieved a uniform chest strap from the dead body closest to him. Holding the light in one hand, he threw the strap down the passage with the other. The strap broke into pieces with a hissing sound as it traveled.

  “What is that …” Gholss asked in amazement.

  “Filament. Produced by Arachnids. A trap for us.”

  “You mean this is spider web?”

  “Yes. But nothing like the spider-like creatures of our home. This is engineered filament. The Arachnids have implants that let them modify their web into this.”

  “How do we remove it?”

  “It is heat sensitive. Set your energy rifles to wide beam and burn it out.”

  The two officers moved back down the hallway and let their underlings remove the obstruction. Sslolg was about to warn them to confirm their work when one of the reptiles stepped on an unseen filament that cut his foot neatly in two. Sslolg himself bound up the wound and called for a medical evacuation.

  “This will teach you greater care in the future, young reptile,” Sslolg said, giving the soldier a bracing blow on the shoulder. “I expect you to heal quickly so you can get back to duty!”

  “Yes, Alpha Commander!” The soldier said as he was carried away by two medics.

  Sslolg led the way, using his lighting device and another pilfered chest strap to make certain the corridor was free of traps. So focused were they on checking for traps, that they did not get a clear picture of the carnage inside the command center. Sslolg realized that this was by design.

  Several headless reptiles lay in various, ungraceful death postures. They surrounded the Station Alpha, who was lashed to the to a chair with spider web. The flesh left exposed by the tears and normal openings of his uniform sloughed off scales and in places, the skin beneath.

  “Why is he rotting?” Gholss asked through his breathing mask. The smell nearly overcame him, so he gave in to the mask.

  “Venom. He was stung, probably by the Queen Protector herself. In large does, her poison kills nerves first, then muscle. It liquefies flesh. In small doses, it brings extreme agony, and kills slowly. Look,” Sslolg said, pointing to black cavities along the dead Lizard’s arms. “She stung him multiple times, using the tourniquet to let the poison work slowly.”

  “Torture...” Gholss trailed off.

  “Yes. We must assume now that the Insectoids know everything that this Alpha knew.”

  “This is bad,” Gholss said, instantly regretting his command of the obvious.

  “I agree,” Sslolg said without irony. “This is very bad.” He turned to the communication console and activated it. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “What?” Gholss said, “You want to report to the Royal House now?”

  “Yes. But not before I order the first strike. Now is the time to execute The Battle Plan.”

  Gholss hissed his amusement and clapped his commander on the shoulder. The low-ranking soldiers gave startled looks at the gesture of familiarity between their first officer and commander. Sslolg welcomed the gesture and gripped Gholss in return.

  “The time is now,” Gholss said. “Time to report later. They can’t sack an Alpha Fleet Commander at the dawn of battle.”

  “Precisely,” Sslolg replied.

  ***

  An urgent voice filled every compartment of the Forest Child transport ship. Abhay sat bolt upright in bed, the unfamiliar cabin rendered much more so by the half-light and the absence of his wife.

  “We have reports of Reptilian attacks across the Trade Lanes. Repeat. Reptilians attack the trade lanes,” the voice said.

  Abhay pounded his fist against the light control panels and the small sleeping cabin flared with bright, white light. He squinted as he dressed hastily and made his way forward. Abhay rounded a corner and ran straight into his wife. Only his hand shooting out to grab her arm kept her from falling. He released her just as quickly, remembering her anger.

  “Drexler,” was all she could say. Her face was pale and filled with fear.

  Abhay wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I am so sorry, my love. So sorry. For everything, especially this.”

  They breathed together and clung tightly to one another. He rested his chin on the crown of her head. They stayed like that for a while with the sound of rushing Human and Forest Child feet rushing around them. The ship exploded with activity, and the two stood in its midst like a river delta.

  “Are you ready,” Margaret looked up and said.

  “I’m with you,” Abhay replied.

  “I know,” Margaret said.

  The Forest Child transport had a large conference room that sat at the dead center of its area. By Human standards, it was quite large. It had to be in order to accommodate the bulk of an average Forest Child. When Margaret and Abhay walked in, most of the concerned parties were already assembled at the table.

  Two Forest Child military officers flanked the Ambassador. Mother Parveen sat opposite them beside two empty seats to her left. To her right, a covert representative of General Blevins sat with her subordinate. Margaret and Abhay took their seats at the table. The room was silent. Humans and Forest Children alike demonstrated signs of shock.

  “This attack happened much sooner than anyone expected.” Mother Parveen broke the silence.

  “Do we know what happened? Abhay asked.

  “We believe so,” the Ambassador said. “But let us not get ahead of ourselves.” Margaret was amused at his use of Human expressions. She tamped down a discordant grin. “Introductions are in order,” the ambassador contin
ued. “These are Generals Kuwan and Molto of the Forest Planet Defense Force. The Human contingent includes Senator Parveen Nautiyal, her son, Senator Abhay Nautiyal and Margaret Nautiyal, who is married to Abhay. From the military of Chennai 5, we have Colonel Tanya Meyers and her staff officer Lieutenant Gopal Sai.”

  “Why is a civilian present,” Colonel Meyers asked. The question was not out of order for the sensitivity of this meeting, but Margaret, not understanding this, bristled.

  The Ambassador stepped deftly into the fray, proving his professional skill one more countless time. “Margaret happens to be a valuable asset in this early stage. Her brother is the Captain of the freighter that seems to be at the center of these inciting events. Her knowledge of Merchant Culture in general will be of immense help.”

  Colonel Meyers nodded her head in assent.

  “On to business,” Abhay said, “Let’s hear the rundown.”

  The Forest Child General called Kuwan answered, “For reasons unknown, the Reptiles exposed their operation by attempting the capture, interrogation and execution of one Drexler Fleetfoot and his crew. We believe that the outpost commander of Kelgar 7 mistook Captain Fleetfoot for a BJP operative. We are unsure why he drew this conclusion, but this obvious overreaction and subsequent escape by Captain Fleetfoot triggered Reptilian action.”

  “They can’t risk having their plan exposed before they strike, so …” Margaret interjected. Military strategy was new to her.

  “Precisely correct,” Tanya said with deference. “The Reptilian Empire Government is spinning these events to put the blame on this Freighter Captain. They claim, and have solid proof, that he was engaged in the illegal transport of armed mercenaries and contraband. The Reptiles cite these events as a pretext for their attacks. They can and will use any excuse to escalate.”

  The Ambassador picked up the narrative. “Predictably, the Trade Union leadership is trying to placate the Reptilians. They have ordered the arrest of this Captain.” Margaret clenched her fists on the table and struggled to remain silent as the ambassador continued. “This does buy us time. If the Reptiles believe the Trade Union is hunting Captain Fleetfoot, they may not press their attack.”

  “But we know this is just the beginning. Even if they don’t attack, they will use the time to set up reinforcements,” Abhay remarked.

  “This is exactly what they are doing right now,” Colonel Meyers said, “How did you know this?”

  “I was in charge of gathering intel on the Reptilian plan. So far, they are following the plan to the letter, except for the timing.”

  “What have they done so far?” Margaret asked. To her surprise, a Forest Child General answered her directly. Margaret felt part of the group.

  “Light and medium-duty Reptilian fighters disguised as freighters have taken control of the central Trade Lane backbone for a distance of nearly five hundred light years. Right now, they are focused on cutting off or creating blockades around the major Sentient Homeworlds.”

  “What does this mean,” Margaret replied, “in real terms?”

  The General replied in somber tones, “It means that they are destroying nearly every merchant vessel within their reach. They occasionally capture some ships and we believe they are enslaving the crews of those ships.”

  “What are they doing with the ships themselves?” Abhay asked, leaning across the table.

  “We believe they are being commandeered as supply ships,” General Kuwan answered.

  “We need to find a way to encourage them to capture these ships, not destroy them,” Abhay said.

  “Why would we do this?” General Kuwan asked.

  “Because most of these Merchant ships contain the secret combat features,” Abhay replied.

  “I’m not sure it is possible to encourage them to capture, rather than to destroy.” Colonel Meyers replied.

  “Barring that, we need to discover which ships are in Reptilian hands.”

  “Are you still hoping to find the seed ship?” Colonel Meyers asked.

  “No,” Abhay replied. We have already found it.

  “How can you be sure?” Meyers replied.

  “I’m not, but I know how to make certain.” Abhay said, and left it at that.

  “But this is for a later strategy session,” General Kuwan said, “Right now, we on this ship are effectively in command of the Trade Union response to this attack.”

  “What response?” Abhay asked. His dry smile made his teeth look like kindling. The Humans grimace and the Forest Children grit their teeth.

  Human corporals brought in refreshments and display scrolls. The group quickly dove into the chaotic early intelligence reports. Margaret sat numb listening to the facts and figures that represented thousands of lives being snuffed out. Hundreds, if not thousands of worlds were either cut off from life-giving commerce, coming under attack or both.

  “This is a nightmare,” Margaret said. Every eye she met in the room seemed to agree.

  ***

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” First Sergeant Kaur asked nervously. Lieutenant Darzi, Kaur and Corporal Chaudri huddled under a metallic hydrogen conduit around their covert communications device. They hid in an area of the ship blind to Reggie’s sensors, or so they hoped. Corporals Chaudri and Asan had been chipping away piecemeal at finding Reggie’s blind spots and vulnerabilities.

  “No,” Darzi said, impatient with this new development where the formality of command seemed to be breaking down. Now that they were no longer officially members of the BJP military, her subordinates behaved more like partners. “I am not sure this is a good idea. We are rather out of options at the moment.”

  “We have success already,” Corporal Chaudri said. “We had an undetected two-way session with Colonel Nautiyal yesterday. The AI cannot detect us here.”

  “How does this thing work?” Kaur asked.

  Chaudri indulged her through Darzi’s silent consent. “We found an encrypted section that the AI did not compromise. I expanded that section, and I’m using it on one of the lesser-known tangler channels.”

  “Enough. We are wasting time. Turn the thing on,” Darzi said. “Make it one-way only. Safer that way.”

  It took a while. Chaudri had to do everything manually, as there was too much of a chance Reggie might detect personal comms.

  “Ready,” Chaudri said.

  Darzi bent low over the rectangular white box. “Proceeding to New Detroit. Ship time two weeks, time dilation estimate: three months,” she said, then made a slicing motion across her throat, and Chaudri ended the transmission.

  Both soldiers stared at Darzi. “What,” Darzi said. “What’s wrong.”

  “Three months?” Kaur asked.

  “Yes,” Darzi replied with a sarcastic edge, “This is how FTL travel works. Two weeks for us, three months for the rest of the universe.”

  “Why so far?” Chaudri asked.

  “Firstly, we’re heading to New Detroit. Federated American city ships can be anywhere. Second, we have to travel outside the trade lanes. The AI took a while to calculate our route. There is not a lot of free space outside the Trade Lanes, that’s why they are called the trade lanes,” Darzi explained.

  “I guess we are spoiled by so much travel through known space,” Kaur said.

  “We travel the way they did it in the old days,” Chaudri added, sounding reverent tones for the old, romanticized days of early deep space.

  “Yeah, those were the days,” Darzi said, “When ships would boldly reach nearlight and pass through a dust cloud only to become part of it.”

  They thought about that as they left their hideaway and rejoined the rest of the crew.

  30

  The Protector matched velocity with Fleetfoot I and held at steady at a hundred kilometers to port. The distance was just outside the relative gravity drafts of each ship, and close enough to launch a shuttle that took little time to bring Fourseven from aboard.

  The Captain walked out onto the catwalk of
the cargo module that served as a shuttle bay. Twenty feet below, Fourseven stood flanked by Leader, Cila and two Arachnids.

  Drexler stopped short, turned to Samuel, said, “Can you tell me why there are 9-foot tall hornets and to gigantic talking tarantulas in my shuttle bay?”

  “Strange days, I guess,” Samuel replied.

  Drexler shook his head and made his way down the metal stairs to meet his guests. He stood a respectful distance from the insects. These Insectoids were much larger than Tara and her children.

  “Welcome aboard, Fourseven,” Drexler said cordially.

  “Thank you, Captain Fleetfoot,” Fourseven replied.

  “This is my Ship’s Surgeon, Doctor Samuel Abiola. My First Officer sends his regrets. He would be here to greet you, but he has pressing duties to discharge. We are traveling under difficult circumstances.” Drexler lied about Mumlo. He and his First Officer barely spoke since Drexler’s return. Mumlo barely followed orders, so the Captain gave him very little direction to avoid the risk of open insubordination.

  “I understand,” Fourseven replied. “This is Cila, of the Arachnid Rangers, and her partner Boljak,” and she swept two right arms to indicate the spiders. “This is my First Officer. His name is unpronounceable in tradespeak, but it means ‘Leader’.”

  “That is how you may address me,” Leader said, trying out his Tradespeak synthesizer. Drexler thought he did pretty well for a novice.

  “Very well,” Drexler said. “I understand you would like to talk, so please, we have a conference room that you will find comfortable.”

  Drexler and Samuel started up the stairs. The Insects watched them for a moment, then erupted with. The Arachnids took two bounding strides forward, and leapt the twenty feet to the catwalk with a speed that turned them into blurs. Fourseven and leader barely had to use their wings to reach their companions.

 

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