A second glance at the non-commissioned officers, the backbone of any successful unit, and Mairin felt her stomach turn. They were all over the place, supervising as they should by doctrine. But they stood stone-faced with arms crossed, and at least two of them carried riding crops. Really? We do this sort of thing these days?
Not we. Not ever.
The lieutenant stopped short of a doorway and stared at Mairin. “Wait here.”
Mairin blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said, wait here.”
“Ma’am.” Mairin felt her spine stiffen. “I think you meant ma’am, Lieutenant.”
Crimson erupted up from the lieutenant’s collar and began to creep into his face. “That’s only for people I respect or combat veterans. You’re neither.”
Mairin raised a hand to her coverall jacket, unfastened it, and pointed to her decorations. “The fact that I have these, Lieutenant, doesn’t matter one bit. You respect the rank, Lieutenant. Everything else above that is your prerogative.”
The lieutenant grunted. “Yes, ma’am.”
The door opened, and a very short, very bald man looked up at Mairin. “I said I was not to be bothered.”
The lieutenant hesitated, so Mairin extended her hand. “Sir, are you Lieutenant Colonel Coffey?”
“Yeah.” He posed against the doorframe, looking annoyed.
“Captain Mairin Shields.” Her hand hung in the air for five seconds before Coffey took it briefly.
He dismissed her almost immediately. “I don’t have a slot for you right now, Shields. Until we reconstitute at Rayu-Four, I don’t have anything for you to do. We’ll add you to the rolls, but don’t plan on having much to do for the next couple of weeks.” He looked at the Lieutenant. “Secure Captain Shields some quarters, ensure she’s added to the battle roster.”
That’s it? Mairin nodded, “Thank you, sir.”
“Make yourself at home. Check in with me at Rayu-Four. I’ll summon you if I need you.” He turned and shut the door in Mairin’s face.
Summon? Mairin looked at the impassive lieutenant and forced herself to smile. These assholes weren’t going to remove her sense of humor by dismissing her. “I believe you’re going to secure some quarters for me. Preferably something far away?”
The lieutenant almost allowed his tight-lipped grimace to crack. A sign of life most likely beaten from the rest of the regiment. “Right this way, ma’am.”
Her quarters were almost stately compared to the transit vessel. She could stand, move around, and even do exercises if she wanted. The private sink was an added bonus, but she’d still share her shower and toilet facilities with the rest of the females in her section. Nothing unexpected, yet it was all new. The constant noise struck her the most. Even in the dead of night, when at least two-thirds of the ship would be asleep, there was still the clanging of tools, the occasional shudder of the reaction control system firing, and always the sounds of people all around her. Unlike other captains, Mairin found herself in a room by herself, and while the privacy was welcome in her newly discovered officership, she found she would have liked a roommate, just to have somebody to talk to.
She spent her days in the common areas of the ship, the wardroom for her meals and the dayroom for general activity. Nobody from the regiment gave her any recognition, and while she enjoyed the anonymity, her annoyance with the behavior grew with every day. Wandering the ship became the chosen activity of the day. She fell in love with the hangar deck, ducking under wings and caressing the sleek fuselages of exocraft that looked like they were flying while standing still. Hurricanes, Ospreys, Raptors, and Tornadoes all rested with their wings folded in the tight space. She found the drop bays of the Rhinos and Hammers, capable of holding companies and battalions of TDF vehicles in their racks. Past the drop bays, along the keel of the ship, she found the Heinlein Tubes. What must it be like to drop through the atmosphere of a planet with just a small shell of protection? The audacity! She touched a protective shell, inspecting it closely.
“Can I help you, Captain?”
Mairin startled. She turned to a chief warrant officer with a bad haircut and a perpetual scowl. A sporadic and borderline unkempt mustache crossed his upper lip. “Sorry, Chief. Just looking around.”
The chief nodded, his eyes on the badges sewn onto her coveralls and then back up to her eyes. “New officers shouldn’t be wandering operational spaces. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
How did he know? Could he really see it? Mairin wanted to scowl, look more experienced, appear more soldierly all in one breath. Instead she smiled. “I suppose you’re right, Chief. But when the shit hits the fan, I’d like to know where to go and what to do.”
The chief snorted, but his cheeks almost rose in a smile. “You know what these are?”
“Heinlein Tubes.” Mairin looked over her shoulder at the launching tubes. “How do they work?”
“Sheer velocity. You strap into the cocoon, or your vehicle, and get shot into the atmosphere. Just like in the holos. That Heinlein guy was a genius. When we don’t have to launch a Rhino or Hammer, we can fire troops and vehicles just about anywhere on a planet.”
“Something about infantry and everlasting glory, right?” Mairin smiled at the chief, who to Mairin’s surprise, chuckled. Heinlein just theorized them. He had no idea they’d work, did he? “Why wouldn’t we deploy a Rhino or Hammer?”
The chief smiled. “Why use a heavy asset when you don’t have to? Some planets atmospheres, say like Earth or Libretto, can accept tubes. If the planet’s atmosphere is too thick or non-existent, it makes more sense to use a Rhino or Hammer.”
Mairin nodded. “What kind of vehicles can you drop?”
“Right now, we can drop everything including the new Slammer assault tanks. We’re the first platform to be able to do that.”
Mairin flashed her neurals. “Do we have any onboard? The Slammers?”
The chief nodded. “We’re carrying six. We’re supposed to deliver them to the Hornet in a few days. They have a full regiment on board, but need six spares. Have you seen them?”
“No. Where are the ones onboard?”
“Storage. Access the ship infonet and you can find them. Someone with your background will appreciate them.”
Mairin smiled at the stress he placed on background. “I didn’t catch your name, Chief.”
“Chief Casey,” he almost smiled. “Engineering Senior Warrant.”
They shook hands, Mairin meeting his firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Chief. I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for showing me around.”
The chief nodded. “Anytime, ma’am.”
Mairin walked away for the first time in uniform without feeling like there were contemptuous eyes on her back. She flashed the Ticonderoga’s infonet and found the Slammers. She also realized she knew everything about them without ever having laid eyes on them. Powered by repulsors with traditional tracks as a backup, the tanks could move at eighty kilometers per hour on the ground, and with repulsors hovering them, more than one hundred thirty kilometers per hour. They carried a 200mm electromagnetic rail gun capable of flinging a sixty-pound projectile more than ten-thousand meters. Slammers also integrated with Fleet-deployed position systems capable of determining targets and directing gunfire to them beyond visual range (BVR). With a crew of four, and a vehicle interface capable of monitoring crew systems and loading the main gun, the sleek machines looked to be a very capable combat vehicle. Of course, capability depends on the ability of those operating it, she thought.
Slammers weighed in at a hefty one hundred and thirty tons, nearly twice what her imprint mounted. Mounted, she chuckled as she walked. Some things seemed very natural to say and think, and others were just funny. Instead of heading for the storage compartments, she headed for the wardroom and a late breakfast.
Mairin enjoyed shipboard life, except for the coffee. She looked at the brown sludge coating the bottom of her plasticene coffee mug and tried not to gag. She�
�d reported to the Ticonderoga and immediately found herself in administrative no-mans-land. No one knew what to do with her, as her unit was not aboard the Ticonderoga. All of the TDF crew positions were fully manned, so she wasn’t assigned a specific duty. She checked in twice per day with the TDF adjutant, and spent time wandering the ship and hypnotraining. The morning of this third day, she’d tried to choke down a second mug of coffee in the platform’s mess hall, or wardroom, whatever it was called, when a loud whistle hushed the crewmembers around her.
“All hands, this is the captain,” the ship-wide loudspeaker known as the 1-MC sounded off and the ship quieted. Mairin looked up from the remnants of her coffee and thought about going for more until she noticed everyone around her frozen in place, staring at the ceiling.
“I’m afraid I must inform you of a change in our mission. The command crew has been aware for the past six hours that we are not headed to Rayu-Four. We have been ordered to Wolc.” Smiles and punches in shoulders met the announcement. “There is no liberty or shore leave. In fact, there may never be again. The recent attacks on our outposts along the Outer Rim by the Greys and our subsequent movements in defense of our territory have opened a hole in our defenses. The Greys have launched a large-scale attack in our sector. I don’t have to tell you of the strategic importance of the Rayu-Four shipyards. Ticonderoga herself was commissioned there three years ago. However, a coordinated Grey attack on Wolc is imminent.
“We are the closest Fleet Battle Platform to Wolc. We will arrive there at our maximum fold speed in just over an hour. I expect that our arrival will be hostile. We are now at Battle Stations. All crews to your combat stations. Maneuver assets standby for drop, exo-squadrons are placed in Alert Five status.
“We will be completely unsupported for at least seven hours. There has been no contact with the Fleet Battle Group or the Regiment on the ground in the last three hours. We are it, people. We are the last chance to hold Wolc. Let’s give them hell.
“God be with us.” The speaker clicked off and the crew stayed silent until the klaxons sounded a second later. In a matter of seconds, the wardroom emptied, leaving Mairin and a few cooks in the room. Her bracelet tingled an incoming message.
Report to Charlie Deck, Space Four Forward.
She moved from the room quickly, breaking into a jog as she entered the organized chaos of the passageways. Mairin swung down the ladders to Charlie Deck near Four Forward. She’d been down here before, touring and looking at some of the hardware she’d learned about in hypno. She pushed open the door on a group of seventeen young men, soldiers. No one over the rank of Specialist except for the slight boyish man in the middle wearing the gold bar of a second lieutenant. God save me from lieutenants. “Who’s in charge here?”
The lieutenant rubbed his buzzed red hair and smiled behind his glasses. Mairin knew what that smile was. The relieved smile of getting off the hook. “Ma’am, I believe you are.”
Mairin looked at the lieutenant for a moment, and then over the group to the equipment along the back wall. Six Slammer magtanks with electromagnetic guntubes raised automatically from their mounts to the drop bays. The heavy vehicles hung at a thirty-degree angle in their drop positions. “Those vehicles combat loaded?”
The lieutenant shrugged. “We just got here, too.”
Mairin swore under her breath. What the fuck do they expect me to do? “How many of you are trained on those vehicles?”
They all raised their hands. “Most of these guys are just trained drivers, but they did get familiarization training as part of their basic hypno,” the lieutenant said. “I’ve identified those freshest out of hypno, there is one per vehicle. I say we load them as gunners, ma’am.”
Mairin nodded. “Who says we’re going someplace, Lieutenant? Do you know what our orders are?”
The lieutenant shook his head, “Be prepared to drop and take commands from the ground assault commander. That’s all.”
“It’s a start.” Mairin smirked. “Okay, Lieutenant crew the vehicles. Who’s the senior enlisted person here?”
A tall thin kid raised his hand. “That would be me, Captain.” He smiled again and Mairin answered it with a tight grin. Always wanted to go to Jamaica, she thought and blinked it away. Dammit.
“Livingston? You’re now the First Sergeant. Pick the next two seniors to be the platoon sergeants. Get started on pre-combat checks and inspections of those vehicles. Lieutenant, I need to speak with you. Make it happen, people.”
The men took a long second and started to move slowly to the vehicles. Mairin raised her voice, “I said move, goddamnit!” She caught Livingston’s eye and nodded at him. He immediately echoed her commands and volume and the men sprang to action.
The lieutenant’s uniform nameplate said Ulson. “What’s your first name?”
“Alex, ma’am.”
She held out her hand and shook his firmly. “Mairin.”
Ulson looked at the badges sewn to her coveralls and re-met her gaze. “Those really yours, ma’am?”
“Yes, but it’s a long story.”
Ulson nodded, but said nothing for a long moment. “Hope I get to hear it someday.”
Mairin gestured with her fingers. “We’ll organize as two elements, both with platoon sergeants reporting to you. You’ll move with one element always, and I’ll be with the other. Make sure they get the vehicles ready and select good crews. Stay out of Livingston’s way. Let him really try and be a first sergeant. How long have you been commissioned?”
“Six weeks, ma’am.”
“TDF Academy?”
Ulson shook his head. “Officer Training University.”
That’s better, Mairin thought. Save me from Academy shitheads.
“What’s your specialty?”
“Strategic Air Defense, ma’am. Armor was my secondary.”
“Not anymore. Just do what I ask you to and we’ll do well. All right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“No sweat,” Mairin nodded. “And no lectures from me. I expect you to do what you’re trained to do. You’ll get the same from me, get me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’ve got about thirty minutes. I’m going to try and get some answers from our battalion commander. Be ready for drop when I get back.”
Ulson swallowed. “Ma’am? Are drops as bad as they say?”
Mairin smiled and shook her head. “You tell me when we get down to Wolc.” She jerked her head toward the vehicles, giving Ulson the hint, and went to the comm station, touching her bracelet to it. The maneuver commander responded in fifteen seconds.
“Captain Shields. I trust you’ve taken charge of those spare vehicles?”
“Yes, sir.” In the videolink she watched him fidgeting and felt her stomach curl inward. Distracted, belligerent. Holy shit, was the man drunk?
“Okay. Looks like we’ll drop about two hundred klicks southwest of Waters City in thirty minutes. Rolling plains and forests. I’ve got four companies and you. Stay out of their way and be ready for action if I call on you. I’ll keep you...uh...informed.”
Mairin stared at a darkened screen. Not much in the way of orders. She moved to the center of the space and looked through the collection of papers and map sheets there. Nothing usable. There were eyes on her. Her men were working feverishly around the vehicles while she was standing still. Never let someone do something you wouldn’t do, she chided herself. She called to Ulson about which vehicle was hers. He pointed to the center vehicle and Mairin strode up to it, climbed up the front repulsor’s fender and scrambled up to the turret. Laying a palm on the composite armor as she passed the gun tube, Mairin said, “Hello, gorgeous.”
Atop the tank, the standard two hatches dominated the space. The larger hatch for reloading the depleted uranium tipped sabot rounds and the smaller hatch with the fifty-caliber machine gun mount for her. The smaller commander’s hatch sat ringed with presumed vision blocks, allowing her to see without leaving the inside
of the vehicle. Her hands trembled slightly as she worked the hatch and swung her legs into the vehicle. The commander’s information center dominated the right side of her space. The turret controls and sight extensions felt familiar. She flipped down the footpad and kneed her gunner in the lower back. “Sorry.”
The gunner looked over his shoulder. “Specialist Lee,” he said and extended a hand over his shoulder, which Mairin took. “Nice to meet you.”
Mairin nodded. “Lee, nice to meet you as well. You comfortable with this beast?”
“Yes, ma’am. I got it.” He turned back to the computer interface and worked the panel through diagnostics. Another figure dropped into the main hatch on the far side of the tank and smiled.
“Ma’am, I’m Private Conner.” The bespectacled kid with a cherub’s face said. “I’m the commo specialist. Who do you want to talk to?”
Mairin squinted for a moment at the radio. “Ground Force Commander, Air Force Commander, the Combat Information Center for the Ticonderoga and all of our vehicles.”
Conner smiled. “Too easy.” He began a sequence of keystrokes and flip-switches in the communications area that Mairin watched with a grin.
So far so good, she thought. “Do we have an interface yet?”
Lee shook his head. “Still in diagnostics. About ten minutes.”
Mairin nodded and let her hypnotraining and instincts take over. She initialized the autoloader without a second thought, then climbed up out of the hatch and looked over at Ulson doing the same. “Stand to in ten minutes. When everyone’s up, I’ll brief our plan.”
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