Galactic Council Realm 2: On Duty

by J. Clifton Slater

  “The Clipper ship took up anchorage at the new Galactic Council Naval Station. It would become the home for training Navy and Marine pilots and as a major station, it would help the Realm grow in the sector. Jökull didn’t care about any of that as he rolled the four cages onto the station. With Bjarki locked in his room, he was a lonely and sad man. More so because he owed his life to the occupants of those cages.”

  “No one wanted the caged creatures. Oh, one man asked if they were good eating. He almost got a beating but Jökull was focused on finding the four a home. For two days, he roamed the bare bones structure of the station. Speaking with foremen, construction workers and military personnel, everyone said no and it left him frustrated and desperate. Eventually, his wonderings lead him to the unfinished atrium.”

  “There he found an empty crate and after pulling the cages close, he sat and pulled a bag of meat strips from his back pack. Each cat gently took the offered strip and became preoccupied with eating. Jökull took one for himself then while chewing spent a few minutes looking around.

  Bare steel walls rose stories above him. Even the ramp he’d used to reach the area was just as naked. The only thing with any ascetic’s finish was a round reinforced steel door. It resembled a bank vault and the area around it had dark wood paneling.”

  “As he chewed and watched, the door slowly swung open. Three Druids stepped over the threshold and onto the unfinished deck. All four cats turned around in their cages. As if they were synced up, the three Druids pivoted and returned the cats’ stares.”

  “What manner of creatures are these?” one of the Druids asked from under his crawl. Jökull stood and thinking the man meant to harm his cats balled his hands into fists. The story is told that Jökull realized that the Druids were good, kind, benevolent, humble, caring, trustworthy and were good to their Mothers.”

  ‘Well the last was true, at least,’ I thought to myself.

  “Jökull was shocked when the stoic Druids sat on the dirty deck, reached out, opened the cages and carefully pulled the large kittens into their arms. The rambunctious kittens lay docile in their arms. He returned to his ship a happy man having found a home for Bjarki’s litter. Bjarki, or Little Bear, wasn’t happy and she didn’t come near Jökull for two weeks.”

  “The Druid lore is that the cats called to the Druids when they stepped through the steel door. Research later showed a common house cat shouldn’t have mated successfully with a jungle cat. Bjarki should have spontaneously aborted in the sixth week. Everything seems to point to the External drive and the return radiation from the aft intake tube. The four kittens matured and some of the wild was breed out of the lineage by mating them with large but tamer cats. It was a collection of minor miracles that created the Space Cat as we know them today.”

  As if on cue, Breann, Swanhilde’s Space Cat, came strutting onto the mess deck. He strolled directly to Blomma and placed a hairy leg from some dead bug at his feet. Then, he sat and stared at the Navigator. And, the logic driven Navigator stared back at the cat. The two were locked in deep concentration for a full minute before Breann huffed, turned and walked away.

  “Still don’t get it,” Blomma said.

  “Don’t you people have things to do?” Commander Lunes asked from the hatchway, “Because if you don’t, I can find something to keep you busy.”

  I’m not sure when the training takes place, but Navy Petty Officers, Marine Corps Sergeants and ship’s 1st Officers always ask that question. I’ve never heard anyone give a negative reply.

  Chapter 9

  We scattered from the mess deck in four directions. I took the tunnel to hanger deck two and my GunShip. While I rechecked the tie-down straps, I thought of what I hadn’t told my crew mates about the Space Cats.

  As a child growing up with Druid parents, I learned many things Folks didn’t realize. Out of necessity, the Clan swore each of the children to secrecy for many of these things. The Space Cats’ mental abilities, the extent of the Druids communications with the Cats and the true power of the Heart Plants beyond the creation of scented air.

  It was the Heart Plant’s effect on the four wild kittens that made them tame. As they were carried into the Druids’ inner sanctuary, the cats inhaled the hearty fragrance. Each dropped to the deck and convulsed. After ten minutes of shaking with their eyes rolled back showing only the whites, they slept for five hours.

  House cats had been in the presence of the Heart Plant but they hadn’t displayed these actions. Shortly after waking, the four cats walked to the trunk of the plant and rubbed against the sharp spikes. It was then the Space Cats truly communicated with the Druids.

  The Druids understood when the Cats mentally sent, ‘Mother’ to the Heart Plant. The Druids agreed. Thus, the Druids took the raising and breeding of the cats as a duty almost as seriously as their obligation to the Heart Plants.

  I’d tightened the two straps and moved over to the repair tug. Because I didn’t want Commander Lunes to find me a chore, I opened the ion drive of the small work vehicle and ran a test on the ion cannons.

  While I tested the diode gaps, I puzzled at how Breann had known about the ship. Space Cats had a keen sense for biological signatures but they were usually surrounded by people, cats and bugs. These were distractions limiting the reach of their senses. The only thing I could figure was Breann was extremely sensitive. It being fourth watch with most of the crew asleep, his ability had reached beyond any normal distance.

  I closed the ion cover, stood and decided to visit GunShip 1. Maybe Lieutenant Tani needed help with her red silk, oops, not proper thoughts. Clearing my mind, I took the tunnel back to the mess deck.

  A quick loop through the chow hall and I was into the tunnel leading to hanger number one. As I reached the hatch, laughter carried from the hanger deck. I stopped.

  Furawā Hana said something. Tani giggled then replied in a soft teasing tone. I spun around deciding to ask Lunes if she had anything that needed done.

  The Swanhilde cruised parallel with the Galactic Divide for a few more weeks. At a point plotted by Måndag Blomma and the Captain, she swung her nose towards our destination. Three days later, with corrections completed, the Patrol Boat performed an External evolution. Blomma had done a stellar job. The transitions from Internal drive to External occurred with no noticeable jerk, no snap, and no damage to the ship.

  Life on board while under External drive was boring. I stood my watches looking at the clock and power readouts. Slept, ate and waited for my watch to start again. Our sensors recorded the yellow ions as they flow around the hull. Lance Corporal Def̱téra and I reported the yellow ion flow to each other. Tedious routine occupied our time while streaming under External drive.

  Weeks of dull duty later, we were called to the Bridge.

  “In two hours, we will do an Internal evolution,” Captain Viljami announced.

  I was leaning on one side of the hatchway leading to the gun deck. My hand resting on the Clan strap. Sergeant Kukka, head of the Marine detachment, was holding up the other side of the hatch. Tani and Hana occupied a space off to the side of our Captain with Lunes on the other. The Swanhilde was nearing the area where she’d been jumped. Like a victim of a mugging on a dark street, the Patrol Boat was going back to the street, but this times she was armed and aware.

  “Sergeant Kukka. I want both the quads out, extended and scanning as soon as we complete the evolution,” the Captain ordered, “Commander Lunes will coordinate but I want no hesitation. We’re going to show them what it means to attack a Galactic Council Navy ship.”

  “Aye, aye Ma’am. We’ll be locked and loaded,” the Marine NCO responded.

  “Piran and Tani. Combat launch is authorized,” she said switching to her GunShip pilots, “I want you both out and watching our rear. If we don’t encounter an aggressor, we’ll recover you before sailing out of the safety arc.”

  “Aye, aye ma’am,” Tani and I replied at the same time.

  “Alright people.
You know what to do,” Viljami said turning to face Lunes, “Unless you have something, we’re done here.”

  Commander Lunes said, “Nothing Captain. Staff attention. Dismissed.”

  Tani and I passed through the gun deck. I waved a salute at Lance Corporal Def̱téra who was strapping into his weapon system. He smiled and returned the salute. After a brief stop to collect GCMP 45s, the pilot of Gunship 1 and I continued through the maintenance deck. We split up at the mess deck. I retrieved my helmet from the rack and began to slide it over my head.

  “Good luck, Lieutenant Piran,” Tani said.

  “Safe flight,” I replied.

  She winked and reached for the pressure suit’s zipper. Under the suit a splash of pink silk peeked out at me before disappearing under the Navy space suit.

  ‘Definitely not regulation underwear,’ I thought.

  I gave her a thumbs up, sat in the jump seat and buckled in. Connecting to the Bridge communication, I began to eavesdrop on our ship’s commanders. The minutes ticked by as I listened to Blomma, Viljami and Lunes.

  “Stand by for Internal evolution.”

  “Bringing Internal power to maximum.”

  “Clocks are running. Prepare for power equalization.”

  “Evolution in three, two, one.”

  “Reduce External power.”

  The Swanhilde jerked just once. Blomma, our Engineer, had miss-timed the evolution and created a snap. He’d catch hell from the Captain for that later.

  I was excited, then worried when I felt the rattling of the quad machine guns as they began barking out rounds. Something was out there, being targeted, and it wasn’t friendly.

  “Combat launch, combat launch,” ordered Lunes almost shouting.

  I slapped the release on my harness and stood enough to reach out for the locking mechanism. Spinning like a ceiling fan, it freed the hatch. I bolted through it and scurried down the access tunnel. In full stride, I reached the hanger deck hatch. My hands had barely touched the locking wheel. My shoulders taunt ready to command my arms to spin it. Everything came to a halt when a crushing weight slammed me to the deck.

  Chapter 10

  The tunnel collapsed. My legs and back felt sharp edges just centimeters above my spine. To my front, the rigid frame around the hatch held. I had a little room to move. One arm reclaimed its place on the locking wheel and I pulled.

  Pull and reposition, pull and reposition, eventually the locking nubs slid clear and I pushed. The hatch swung open. Fog closed in around me as the ship’s air froze. I staggered onto the hanger deck.

  The movable section of the bulkhead that closed in the hanger deck was twisted and open to space near the tail of my GunShip. I followed the trail of condensing atmosphere to the breech. Thin clouds raced to the raggedy opening and quickly dispersed into space. The black void was visible beyond the damaged hanger cover. Something had hit this section of the Swanhilde and peeled away the alloy, most likely a missile.

  I expected to hear the Patrol Boat’s ion drive go to emergency power. Instead, the drive rumbled like a dryer full of wet shoes. Rhythmic but with no pattern and no power, the Swanhilde was hurt and crippled. Pushing in my com unit, I attempted to reach the Bridge. Nothing, the fiber optic lines must have been severed when the tunnel was crushed.

  My duty was to launch the GunShip and protect the ship and crew. I studied the mess that was my elevator. I could shove the tail of the GunShip out the open side. There was a chance of damaging my induction pipe leaving me without External drive. While looking over my ship, I locked onto the repair tug.

  I unstrapped the tug and congratulated myself on doing the extra maintenance. It was a tight fit but I managed to fly the small repair vessel between the twisted alloy and the aft of my GunShip. Once free, I opened the basic radar trying to get a feel for what had attacked us.

  Almost immediately, two pings hit the screen and I closed the radar down. Something out there was actively looking for any electronic signal. I didn’t want them to target me. Still in the dark as to the situation, I moved the tug to the closed portion of the hanger’s elevator. With the mechanical arm and a cutting torch, the work went quickly. Sparks erupted as I cut away the massive hinges and part of the hull. Eventually, the damaged elevator floated away into space.

  GunShip 2 was free physically, but if I powered her up, I would be an easy target for the unknown scanner. If I left her in the exposed hanger, there was nothing to stop an enemy ship from taking her out. Plus, I still didn’t know what had attacked the Swanhilde.

  The huge curved alloy sheet that composed the hanger elevator was slowly drifting away. I applied a little power and moved the tug to the sheet. The scan had come from above me so I tucked the repair vehicle behind the sheet. A little push and the elevator began to drift upward. A second shove and my tug and alloy shield moved a little faster.

  A few minutes of drifting and I had my first full view of the damaged Patrol Boat. Her Bridge was vented to space by a hole that spanned almost the entire width of the ship. Further back, she seemed to be intact. It was at the midsection where I realized the Patrol Boat was out of the fight. Her spine was broken. Pieces of the ion wall were exposed.

  What little I could see from here, the number 1 GunShip hanger was also gone. Lieutenant Tani and her non-regulation silks probably didn’t feel anything. One minute, like me, she was running for her ship. The next she was blown into space with a section of the Patrol Boat.

  Air was leaking from ruptures around the intact parts and large misshapen sections were drifting away from the damaged Patrol Boat. I was frustrated. Before I could attempt a search for survivors, I needed to discover who was scanning us.

  Repositioning the tug gave me a partial view of the space above me. Nothing was visible, yet I knew something was up there. A quick hit on the radar would tell me but also alert them. I decided to ride it out a little longer. Discovering and neutralizing the threat was the first order of business. Only then, could I help the crew of the Swanhilde.

  Drifting in space, even after the push made for a slow approach. Minutes passed and I was tempted to fire up the radar. I resisted but the attack and the death of my shipmates had put me on edge. I yearned for a Fighter, something with guns, rockets and thrust. Unfortunately, all I had was a maintenance tug with an articulating arm, interchangeable tools and a welding torch. Sometimes that’s all you need.

  The funny thing about smart weapons was you can approach them if you don’t call attention to yourself. Above me, now visible to the naked eye were three torpedoes. Unlike contact mines, torpedoes required someone to activate them. This was both good news and bad with the balance falling to the bad side.

  Somewhere, in this sector of space was a ship large enough to launch six of the weapons. Three had impacted on the Swanhilde and these three were hanging in space waiting to be activated. So, I devised a plan. I’d disarm the torpedoes, find their owner and dismantle them then rescue anyone left alive on my Patrol Boat.

  I checked my oxygen levels to be sure my plan was not from lack of air. Hypoxia can cause fanciful delusions and stupid ideas. My oxygen levels were normal. It was only the plan that sucked.

  First, I gripped the elevator sheet and sped us up. After 10 minutes, I slowed as my shield and tug approached the first torpedo.

  The torpedo was almost as long as the elevator I was hiding behind. If I attempted to open the casing and scramble the wiring, the unknown controller would be alerted. If I attempted to disarm the nose trigger, the controller would know.

  How to disable a weapon with both a main and smaller guidance rockets?

  ‘What to do with this baby?’ I thought, “What do you do with any baby? You put a diaper on it.’

  I cut two long sections and a large square from the alloy. It took a while as I used manual controls. If I’d used the electronic assist, I’d be detected.

  I bent one long piece so it fit around the aft section of the torpedo. This I tack welded in place. Now, the
guidance rockets were restricted and couldn’t deploy. Next, I folded the square of alloy so the corners almost touched. This I slipped onto the back of the torpedo and tacked it in place. The rear rocket was blocked, when the rocket ignited, the propellant would blow back on itself. Burning internally was not good for a weapon system. The final long section I folded and carefully placed over the nose. This would interfere with the targeting system. If I were lucky, it would detect the alloy when sent a go message, mistake it for the target and blow up.

  I repeated the diapering of the last two large torpedoes. My tug latched onto the remainder of the elevator and I raced back towards the Patrol Boat.

  I watched as the Swanhilde grew in my vision on the return trip. There was no additional venting from the intact section. Either all the air was gone or someone had plugged the holes. I prayed for the plugged scenario.

  GunShip 2 easily came out of the open hanger. I moved it away from the Swanhilde and was about to extend the tug’s air lock tube. Were there other torpedoes in the area? What if I powered up my ship and got hit before coming to full power? I thought about my options and settled on one.

  I towed the GunShip, pushed the allow sheet, and as I moved away from the Swanhilde, I fired up the radar. One scan, one quick sweep with as much power as the little unit could handle and, hopefully, I’d get a fix on the enemy ship.

  Ping, ping and bleep, I found the parent ship. She was hidden behind a small asteroid about five hours cruising from the Patrol Boat. Beyond a massive fuselage, I couldn’t ascertain what type of ship I was facing. Nor the armaments or defenses she’d be sporting.

  Five hours out, recon the enemy ship and waste five hours back while the fate of my shipmates remained unknown, I hated the situation. I could travel the distance in half an hour including warm up time in my GunShip or half that again in a Fighter. But, I didn’t have a Fighter and the ion signature from my GunShip would tip off the torpedoes’ mother ship. I swallowed hard and pointed the alloy shield, the work tug and my GunShip in the direction of the asteroid.