The Gathering Storm (The New Federation Book 4)

by Chris Hechtl

  It was her fault too, she'd bitched about him not calling her by her rank and that had been the giveaway. They'd both learned a hard lesson that day. They were lucky they hadn't been strung up for her stupidity.

  And now the Federation Marines were in orbit and on planet. He knew she itched to do something, but there was nothing she could do except die pointlessly and needlessly or get stuck in a POW camp wondering if she was going to be tried for war crimes. He knew he was going to get stuck in front of a firing squad when they found out he'd been on Jean Bart.

  He sighed heavily, making her look over to him. He shrugged slightly and then continued skulking around with her. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, and a body had to eat.

  :::{)(}:::

  Lieutenant Commander Maya Gibson looked over to her partner and did her best not to curl her lip in contempt. He had good survival instincts, but that was just it, survival. He wasn't interested in rejoining their people at all. She saw him as a coward for that. He was smart though, and she had to admit, right now their people weren't doing so hot. Not with the Federation Marines on hand to turn the tables on them.

  It had been something of a bitter lesson in what really happened on occupied planets for her. She'd felt above it all and had actually been above it all as a fighter pilot. But now she was seeing firsthand what had happened to the planet and didn't like it. There was nothing she could do about it either.

  She hadn't realized he'd been avoiding their own people for some time until she'd seen him flinch and try to talk her out of heading into a Horathian-controlled area. She had more or less bullied him into going in that direction, but her desire to return to the fold had proven her false. Their forces had tried to raid a native town only to be hit back. The raging battle had been no place where she wanted to be she had to admit. That had forced them to try to get around it. But, they'd ended up being blocked by a river and terrain. Eventually they'd ended up going in the direction he'd wanted to go from the beginning.

  She knew he still blamed her for losing their horses and getting kicked out of the caravan. She had regretted the argument that had sparked their exposure, and she regretted even more losing her weapon in her saddle bags. He still had his in his paunch but he refused to let her “borrow it.” It was one of the rare smart decisions he'd made. She had to grudgingly think of him in approval for that.

  Being on the ground was sucking the life out of her. She was a fighter pilot; her place was in the cockpit above the ground, not wallowing in the dirt. She closed her eyes in remembered pain. She had wanted off Lingchi; she'd certainly gotten her wish—a locker full of it.

  “Be careful what you wish for,” she murmured. Dutch glanced at her. She shook her head slightly and then hand signed for them to move into the farm house. He nodded and they cautiously entered.

  She felt relief when they found only bodies within. Scavengers had picked the place more or less clean. There were holes in the roof from the fire so she looked for a dry corner to sleep. She was surprised when Dutch found some bedding, shook them out, and then headed for the stairs to the basement. She had to admit, it might be dark and dank down there, but it would be safer. She grimaced and followed.

  Quietly they checked the basement, then set up camp. A fire would have been nice but with everything wet there was no way they'd get a good fire going. Even if they did, they'd have too much smoke, which would give away their position.

  She watched him curiously as he went back upstairs. She crept up the creaky stairs as well and saw him come back zipping his fly. She wrinkled her nose but nodded once. He went into where the kitchen had once been and stepped on the floorboards. She watched and then joined in until they found a patch of loose floorboards away from the cellar. Sure enough, when they lifted the trap door up they found a small stock of food there. Eagerly they gathered it up and went back to the basement.

  “Looks like we're having—strawberry preserves and cheese tonight,” Dutch said.

  “Ugh. I'll be constipated like last time,” she grumbled. “If you'd let me have the gun, I could hunt something. I know I'm a good shot.”

  “Pass,” he said as they settled in once more.

  She sighed and then set up her own bedding across from him.

  “This place wouldn't take a lot to fix up,” Dutch said as he pulled out a multitool and used the spoon feature to scoop the preserves. She was surprised when he pulled some crackers out of his paunch and divided them up. She had to admit, he was fair about such things. He spooned the preserves on each piece of large graham cracker, then handed her one, then capped the preserve jar. “I mean, the roof, the door … get rid of the bodies … it wouldn't be that bad. And there are forests nearby for hunting.”

  “Pass.”

  “If we try to settle in where people are, they'll notice Commander. Towns are targets,” he said.

  Even more so with the Federation Marines moving in they both knew. Combat was sparking up everywhere. The Marines had flattened every large Horathian base and had invaded over two months ago. Another reason she grudgingly accepted that Dutch might have been right in avoiding joining up with the colonel.

  She grimaced but nodded once as she bit into her cracker. She grimaced when she realized she didn't have anything to wash it down until he took a flask out of his paunch and took a swig, then wiped his mouth and handed it over. She used her sleeve to wipe the bottle mouth, then took a swig as well. “We need to get back.”

  “There is no getting back,” he said tiredly. “There is this. Survival,” he said as he pulled the radio out and set it up.

  “I don't want to just survive! I want to live! I want my life back!” she snarled.

  “I know. You told me,” he said with a shake of his head as he got to work setting the cobbled together device up.

  She frowned as he ran the antenna wire up the stairs then came back and cranked the small handle to charge the generator. He found the right pace within a couple cranks and the radio lit to life. A little tweaking and he found a transmitter.

  “This is Lieutenant Colonel Kodiak of the United Federation Marines to all Horathian forces in the Northern Continent. I am in orbit and am ordering you to surrender. Any who do so will be treated as prisoners of war. Any who resist will regret it. Briefly. We hold the high ground. You can't win this; you're just delaying the inevitable. I'm giving you one hour to think it over before you feel a taste of what is to come,” the voice said.

  The two Horathians looked at each other. Their relative safety was coming to an end they both knew. Maya bit her lip and was the first to look away.

  :::{)(}:::

  Colonel Bericus snarled as he listened to the message from the bastard Neo in orbit. He had finally gotten a firm grip on the planet only for the bear to arrive with his “Fourth Division.” He knew who the real Marine was, he damn well was, not some jumped-up Neo with delusions of grandeur. Sure, the bear held the high ground, and he had tech and numbers on his side. But that was all bullshit. In the end, it came down to who had the best steel. He intended to prove that the Imperial Marines had it.

  If he had one regret, it was not having more of his Marines and equipment from Fourth Fleet. But, he'd make do with what he had.

  He had to admit, the bear had initially surprised him by not coming directly at him. It had allowed him to dig in, and the forewarning and precious time had not gone to waste. At least, he hoped not. One could never be sure with the bastards controlling the orbitals like they were.

  Not once did he think of the irony of the reversed situation. Bitterness might color his mindset from time to time, but that was because he had been abandoned on the planet. He was a Marine though; his could kick ass under any condition.

  “Sir, they've begun the orbital bombardment,” a sergeant said, rushing over to him.

  He grimaced as he felt a slight tremor. He checked the glass and watched the ripples in the surface. “So they have,” he murmured. “EMCOM has been in effect for two months. Moni
tor the location of the strikes and cross-reference them with our known positions. Find me their landing site. We need to hit them hard and make them pay for this.”

  “Yes, sir,” the sergeant replied dutifully. He couldn't help but glance to the rock ceiling above however. It was instinctive when someone was dropping rocks on you.

  “Where are we with logistics?” the colonel asked, ignoring the sidelong looks.

  “We're slightly worse off than the moderate projections. We …,” the sergeant pulled a tablet out from under his arm and checked it. His fingers flicked to scroll through the windows before he found what he wanted. “Food is okay, so is water now that we've got the well and filtration system set up. Power is good as long; as we stay in conservation mode we've got about six months of power.”

  “Food is okay?”

  “We have sufficient rations for everyone in the current TOE for the next three months. We can double that if we go to half rations.”

  “Implement that immediately,” the colonel ordered. “Blackout is in effect. We need to identify sources of supplies. Additional sources,” he said.

  “We've tapped out everything in the area, sir,” the sergeant said, checking the tablet. “Moving such materials over long distances with orbital coverage is problematical, sir.”

  “Then we need to get creative. Find one of those refugee convoys or a trade convoy. They fed the natives, correct?”

  The sergeant nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then we can use that. We'll settle in, wait until they spread out, and then hit them where they are the most vulnerable. That's the problem with being on the defense, you can't be everywhere. If we hit them hard enough, the natives won't side with them. And we can use fear to keep them in line and on our side.”

  “Yes, sir,” the sergeant replied with a nod.

  “Very well. Dismissed,” the colonel said, turning to pretend to look at another report. There was a slight shower of dust; it hung in the air like a slowly downward drifting cloud as the sergeant clicked his heels and left.

  The colonel fought it, but couldn't help but sneeze from the dust. He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose and then pocketed it. “We will, we will frack you,” he murmured softly, reciting the refrain from one of his favorite songs from his childhood. He always loved a good beat; it got the heart pumping when he was doing workouts or getting ready for battle.

  Act III

  Power of a Hurricane

  Chapter 44

  Bek

  Admiral Irons had planned one week in the star system to set things straight, but it became apparent that wasn't going to be long enough. For one thing, it would take time to get the personnel from Bek B and to integrate them into his plans, let alone get them implants and up to speed.

  That just meant he had to plan accordingly and make adjustments. Sprite wouldn't like the delay, but so be it. Hopefully, they could make up some of the time in the return journey to the Sargasso star system.

  He was impressed when he found out Commander Thistle had anticipated his intentions and had already been in the midst of unpacking the industrial replicators before he had docked with Command One. The commander had even arranged space, power, support, and personnel for them. The move surprised Admiral Zekowitz and Admiral Logan when they found out. They were intensely gratified by his initiative and reported the same to Admiral Irons.

  Admiral Irons turned the medics from the ships loose with Lieutenants Weiss and Jaroslaw to get the implant situation sorted out. Since there weren't many officers from Pyrax available, he pulled in Commander Thistle to feel him out and to get his read on the officers he'd served under.

  To his surprise Commander Thistle went to bat for Admiral Sung. “She's a pain in the ass, and I know she's a politician, sir. I also know her promotion is under a cloud. But she's a good officer, sir. She could have thrown me out or made my life miserable but she backed me. She also looked the other way when I made some moves against Childress. At least, I think she pretended to not see them.”

  Admiral Irons nodded sagely. He'd already read the commander's full report. He was impressed that the commander had risked helping the rebels, let alone Horatio. Both Horatio and Zek had only good things to say about the commander. “I'd like to take what you are saying on faith, but I can't. She'll be investigated. If cleared, she'll be reinstated. No promises in regard to her rank.”

  “I understand, sir,” Weaver said, wrapping his tail around his left ankle and squeezing gently.

  “But mark my words, her career has been tainted with this sordid affair. A lot of careers have. She shouldn't have followed Childress,” Admiral Irons said with a shake of his head. “For the moment, I'm leaving you in charge of logistics. I hope it won't be for more than a day or so. Can you handle it?”

  “I handled it for months on my own before Childress realized it and did something about it, sir,” Weaver replied quietly. “I think I'll survive a couple days. Admiral Bolt did a good job of training me to handle the job.”

  Admiral Irons blinked and then shook his head. That the commander had been left in charge of the Republic's entire logistics establishment boggled his mind. “All the more reason that man has to go. I knew he was pigheaded and stupid, but that is just lax and terminally stupid,” he said in disgust as he shook his head. That explained how the commander had gotten away with helping the rebels he thought.

  “Okay, go handle logistics, but don't get too comfortable there, Commander.”

  “Thank you, sir. If I could get back to engineering sometime, I'd appreciate it. I know you need me where I am, but I'd love to do more than push paperwork,” the Chimera ventured.

  Admiral Irons smiled in sympathy. “No promises, but we'll see,” he said. The Chimera came to attention and saluted. Admiral Irons returned the salute.

  After the commander had left, he sat back and considered the situation. He had already called in the department heads and shamed them for not doing their jobs and relieving Childress and Draken. Only General Yetmister remained in his good graces. The general had already submitted a report of his activities and hadn't pulled any punches. Protector's time in the navy's network had confirmed some of his actions.

  The commander didn't know it, but Admiral Sung and Admiral Callisto had brought their letters of resignation with them. He hadn't opened them yet. He wasn't certain if he wanted to let them off the hook or not.

  "Turning out of the guard," he murmured.

  “A new day. The political cockroaches are scrambling out of your blinding light,” Protector said whimsically.

  “Cute. Did you get that one from Sprite?”

  “She does have a way with teasing you I admit,” Protector stated. “But it is time for a good housecleaning.”

  “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  Some officers who had resigned prior to his orders to relieve Admiral Childress or during that time period had been reinstated. A few had already requested that they return to their old positions. He was still considering that. He had no intention of letting them loose in the Admiralty until he'd had each and every one of them vetted.

  Which was going to take a while. More time than he had unfortunately, so he had to rely on the word of officers he trusted to extend to officers they thought he could trust. They had to get the navy in hand and back in order fast.

  :::{)(}:::

  Once the two battle cruisers were in port, the crew were given long overdue liberty. They were allowed out only in groups and only a few dozen at a time.

  Rish tried to get Coral off to a beach, but she decided to spend some of her time visiting Lieutenant V'l'r at the academy. She had remembered him as one of her flight instructors and had taken the time to look him up. She'd also told them that she'd heard some scuttlebutt that he was going to get a long overdue promotion.

  Rish knew there was nothing going on romantically between the two and he didn't want to intrude nor spend his time off at the academy so he gave in as gracefully as he could and left her to
it.

  Martha and Jamie hit the beach scene and swam in the ocean. They drew a lot of stares from the other tourists on the beaches they visited and even a couple autograph requests. It had amused Jamie but not Martha. She didn't like the dirty looks because she had come out of the water topless. In her defense, she had lost her bikini top.

  “I don't know what the problem is. Sure, I'm female, but I don't have mammaries like regular humans do. So my fat reserves are proportioned differently, so what?”

  “That's not the problem,” Jamie sighed, trying to remain patient with her. “You are a female and that was a public beach. Families were there.”

  “Yeah, but they understood when I said I lost it.”

  “Yeah, it just wandered off,” Jamie teased. She glared at him. He leaned over and sucked on his straw and fluttered his gills.

  She finally looked away and then around the small restaurant they'd occupied. It had some really good shellfish. She didn't appreciate the sea gulls and pterodactyls though. “Rats with wings,” she grumbled.

  “Hey!” Jamie said, waving a webbed hand above his head.

  She turned a scowl on him but he didn't see it. “Not you,” he said, feeling her eyes. “Hey, Rish!”

  “Ah hell,” she muttered.

  “What?” he asked as Rish put his order in at the counter and then came over with his drink.

  “He's been trying to get into Coral's … never mind,” she muttered as the Selkie bull got into range of them. “Hi, Rish,” she muttered.

  “Fancy meeting you two here,” he drawled.

  “We're supposed to be in groups, remember? Where is your buddy?” Jamie asked, eyeing the bull.