Rapparee_The Regeneration

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by Robert Weisskopf


  These Trolls were a mystery in themselves. Having lost the ability to access the data stored on the spacecraft, they lived in a technology vacuum. They regressed to a primitive caveman-like existence. The Trolls also bore an uncanny resemblance to Earth’s Sasquatch and Yeti of folklore. We found cryptic writing in the spacecraft that resembled an early written language known as Runic. Found in the Northern European and North American continents and the Himalayan mountains. This was the same areas with Sasquatch and Yeti sightings.

  Dr. Dora Montejano had named them Trolls after learning to speak with them through sign language. She noticed that they were similar in appearance to some gargoyles carved on medieval churches in northern Europe. Trolls were once believed to live under bridges and in caves in the dark forest. Our Trolls lived in similar locations underground.

  Now today, we were almost run down by a spacecraft that appeared out of nowhere. Forced to defend ourselves, we destroyed the craft and recovered a live baby Troll. So, someone somewhere else has encountered the Trolls and may know more about them than we do. This strange craft showed signs that it might have been traveling through a warp in the space-time continuum.

  This was making my head hurt. I sipped my tea and sat back in my chair. It was only then that I noticed Julie had been standing beside me watching me.

  “Are you alright?” Julie asked. “You were sitting here mumbling to yourself.”

  “Yeah, I am. I’m trying to make some sense out of things. We have a lot of strange events and they might be intertwined. Worse than that, someone knows a lot more than we do about Trolls. I’m confused and I’m trying to figure things out, so we don’t get caught short.”

  Julie nodded and said, “I have faith in you. You’ll figure it out. Meanwhile, our little guest is having a blast. Kenny was the perfect choice to keep an eye on the little guy. We won’t have a hard time getting anyone to help with watching the little guy. The crew and the troopers love him, and he is getting along great with everyone. He's smart for an infant. If he is, in fact, an infant. It’s hard to tell. When will we hear back from Chico 7 about our request for information?”

  “Not until later this evening. The message has to travel both ways and Dr. Montejano has to question the Trolls about Butch.”

  I chuckled. “Where did Kenny come up with the name Butch?”

  “I asked him, and he said, look at the little fella. He’s a Butch. I did and he’s right. That little fella is a Butch.” Julie said.

  Chapter 9

  The rest of the day and night was uneventful. I posted extra bridge personnel should anything pop up. I also had everyone either in their power suits or next to them while they slept. We wouldn’t get caught off guard.

  In the morning, I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat at a table in the large galley. I'd already brought over my breakfast, two eggs sunny side up, ham warmed on the griddle and crispy hash brown potatoes. As I reached for a bottle of hot sauce, Chris sat down to my right.

  “Anything new on the bridge?” He asked.

  “It was a quiet night. It might be our last one for a while.” I replied. “I want to sneak into Chico 7’s solar system, using planets and asteroids as cover. I’m sure there's a bandit hiding in there, and I want to sneak up on them.”

  Chris swallowed a bite of his pancakes and asked, “Do you really think there’s more than one bandit ship out there?”

  “Yeah, I do. Maybe two or three. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. That had to be where the Warp drive ship was headed. The Troll baby must mean the bandits have been in contact with the Trolls for a while and captured some. The Carbonado diamonds must be what they’re after. Too many things point to their presence. The bandits aren’t fools. They must realize we'd be back, so they'll be in hiding, waiting for us.” I said.

  “What's our ETA?” Chris asked.

  “We should hit the outer orbits of the system tomorrow, in the late evening.”

  “Let’s say we go to General quarters tomorrow afternoon. Then go to battle stations once we enter the system,” Chris suggested.

  “I’ll talk to the galley to make sure lunch tomorrow is a good one. I'll also have them prepare sandwiches for battle station rations,” I said.

  Chris wiped the last crumbs and syrup from his lip and stood up. Lifting his tray, he said, “I’m going to do a walkthrough of the troops and engineering. I’ll see you later.”

  After he left, I sat sipping a full-bodied coffee that hinted of chocolate. It must have been some of Nicky C’s coffee. Pondering as I enjoyed the dark brew, I tried making sense of all the coincidental breadcrumbs we’ve found. Was there a common thread, or were they random occurrences with no connection? I know some people like to say that there are no coincidences, but sometimes there are. Sometimes things just happen.

  Julie came up behind me as I was deep in thought and sat where Chris had been sitting. “You look like you’re still asleep, only with your eyes wide open. Is everything alright?”

  Startled, I almost spilled some of my coffee. “No, yes, I mean everything is fine. I'm lost in thought. You know how us deep thinkers are. Always pondering the mysteries of the universe.”

  “Sure, stick with that story. Have you checked on Butch and Kenny?” Julie asked.

  Before I could answer, we both heard a commotion in the passageway that tumbled through the hatch and into the galley. A dark bluish-black fur ball barreled through the room heading straight for the food line. Kenny was a step behind the little Troll, trying to catch up. He grabbed little Butch at the counter as Butch tried climbing up to get a better view of the aroma’s that drew him. “Sorry, sorry, he got away from me when he smelled the bacon. He’s pretty strong.”

  Butch was leaning over in Kenny’s arms, trying to grab two handfuls of the aromatic bacon. Julie jumped up and went to give him a hand. “Kenny, let me hold him while you fix him a plate.”

  Kenny handed his charge over and ran into the kitchen. Moments later he came out with a four-inch deep stainless steel serving tray used on the food line. He started loading it with bacon, eggs, and biscuits. He ladled some sausage gravy over the biscuits and carried it all over to a table. Julie followed with a squirming, grunting, Butch.

  I marveled at this little Troll. I expected him to shovel the food into his mouth. Instead, he picked up each rasher of bacon, one at a time and savored each bite. Using a large spoon, he took polite mouthfuls of scrambled eggs covered with the sausage gravy. He ate like a little gentleman. He picked up a biscuit and sniffed it. Once he decided he might like it, he took a bite. He dipped it in the gravy and you could see the delight on his face.

  There was a crowd gathered around watching this morning’s breakfast entertainment. Many of the Troopers gathered around were trying out the new Troll language we had been working on. It was great to see they had been taking their training seriously. Sadly, the little Troll had no idea what they were saying to him. He didn’t know Sign.

  I returned my tray and empty plates to the counter and snuck out while everyone paid attention to our furry guest. I made my way to the bridge. Iwona was on duty as I’d hoped. I wanted to work out our approach to Chico 7’s solar system. I planned to sneak in without being spotted by anyone there.

  A large part of my plan was to spot them before they could spot us. We'd have our passive sensors working overtime and our active camouflage operating. Iwona suggested we have one of our fighters take a ride out from us today while we went full camouflaged. Let him try to spot us with both visual and sensor systems. I agreed and called for Larry Stacey to come to the bridge when he finished his breakfast. He arrived five minutes later.

  “Good morning. What can I do for you today?” Larry asked.

  “You can get in your fighter and go for a ride. Fly away from us for about 60 minutes and then try to spot us. We're going to go full active camo and we need to know what you can pick up. Your fighter has the best sensors of all the craft in the hanger, so we want you to give it your best.
We'll be rotating and maneuvering about. Shout out when you get a fix on us. If we have a weak spot, we need to make sure we know about it before we try to sneak past any bandits. We’ll try to spot you too, so activate your camo.”

  “Yes, sir,” Larry said. With a definite bounce in his step, he hurried out to ready his fighter. I knew why he was in such good spirits. He was a fighter pilot and after a good night’s sleep, a hearty breakfast with entertainment, he was ordered to get in his fighter and go play. That was his idea of heaven.

  “Iwona keep an eye on Larry with our sensors. It’ll be a good experience for us to track him.” I added.

  Larry ran out in a straight line for about one hour. At that point, he radioed he was going active camo and would begin searching for us. He shut down all but critical life support systems and active camo. On our sensors, he vanished. We went to active camo and shut down all electromagnetic emissions. We vanished on his sensors.

  Most modern bandit ships didn’t have the military grade sensors we have on the fighter and Lola. Even if they did, odds were that they wouldn’t be as well tuned as ours. These finicky new systems needed an experienced sensor operator to tweak the most out of them. Iwona and Larry were two of the finest in the galaxy. If they couldn’t spot each other then we were all but invisible.

  Iwona let Larry know we were about to maneuver the ship. Al began to ease the ship about its own axis. He introduced yaw and increased the pitch of the ship. The idea was to find out if we had a side that was less protected by the camo.

  Larry radioed back that he was unable to spot any part of Lola. He would have the best chance since he knew our trajectory and new where we should be. Even with Larry’s enhanced sensors and skills, he couldn’t spot us anywhere.

  “Iwona, have Larry return to the hanger. I want him well rested for tomorrow. Tell him to come see me when he lands. I’ll be in my galley with Chris, Nicky, and Julie.” I said.

  Chapter 10

  Larry wore a full power suit custom designed to interface with his fighter. His helmet provided a complete heads-up display of all the important functions of his ship. He could activate many of them by the movement of his eyes alone. He could target an enemy by selecting the weapon and then keeping an eye on it until his ship’s targeting took over. It would only take a fraction of a second, and then free him up for other chores. His helmet also sensed his neural impulses, and he could fire his weapon by thought.

  He walked with a calm sure demeanor across the hangar towards his fighter. The hangar crew had already topped off his fuel tanks. They’d checked and double-checked his weapons. Life support systems were functional and ready for duty. One of the hangar crew was cleaning the windshield of the craft on both the inside and outside.

  As Larry crossed the hangar deck, maintenance crew working on other ships stopped and watched him. The Hangar Boss called all the maintenance people to attention when he saw Larry walk up. Everyone snapped to attention. The Hangar Boss turned to Larry and while at attention announced, “Your ship is ready sir.” His pride and respect obvious in his voice.

  Larry snapped to attention as well. He’d not seen this sort of behavior since he left the military. The maintenance crew took great pride in preparing his ship for this mission. He represented them as well. With a crispness born of years of service, the ship’s maintenance crew lead by their boss snapped a salute. These men were no longer military, and saluting was not required of them. They felt the need to show honor and respect towards the pilot taking on this dangerous mission.

  Startled at first, Larry returned the salute with matching crispness. Taken by the heartfelt emotion behind this honor, he understood the crew knew the mission he was on and realized the danger. He’d be flying into Chico7’s system and trying to draw fire from bandit ships. Lola would be behind him, but far behind.

  He’d be on his own when bandits attacked him. Alone, until Lola can close the distance and engage the enemy. Until then, he would engage, using only his wits and the weapons aboard his fighter.

  He felt confident in his talents and in his little fighter. He also knew that the Lola would be racing in to help him when he needed it. He’d been on more dangerous missions in the past, but never had he been on one of his own free will. In the military when you’re ordered to do something, you do it. There’s no choice. Yesterday, when Jack had proposed this mission, he was given a choice and he chose to do it.

  He agreed to the mission immediately out of reflex and Jack knew that. He told Larry that if at any time he didn’t want to go through with it, he could return to the ship. Rather than feel second thoughts about the mission, he felt empowered. Never had he control over his life or death like this. It made him feel stronger and more alive. He wanted this mission more than ever.

  It was a very dangerous mission. He was flying into an area that held a bandit force of at least one ship, most likely more, that would try to destroy him. His backup was at least thirty minutes behind him in a battle where the weapons fired at the speed of light. It could all be over in two or three seconds.

  Larry knew his ship and his systems. He was the best. He knew it, Jack knew it, and General Mauer knew it. That's why he was here. Now he was going to prove it.

  Larry climbed the boarding ladder and handed his helmet bag to the aircraft boss. He stepped into the cockpit and began connecting his suit to the onboard life support systems. The aircraft boss lifted Larry’s helmet from its bag and carefully handed it to Larry. Larry looked around at all the people working to get him settled in. With a smile on his face, he slipped the helmet on his head. The automatic locking ring engaged and completed the electronic circuits. The lights in the helmet showing the ships sensors and status lit up.

  With a thought, the visor display dimmed, and he tilted it open. “Boss, thank all your people for me. I appreciated the honor. I won’t let you down.” He flipped the visor back down and locked it shut. He brought up the display again and shifted in his seat to get comfortable. Two of the crew, one on each side, were helping buckle him in and connect his suit’s life support and avionics.

  A klaxon sounded at the wave of the Hangar boss. All personnel other than the immediate aircraft maintenance hustled to exit the hangar. Those remaining sealed their helmets. Once all unnecessary personnel was off the hangar floor, the hatches sealed, and the lights switched to red. Another klaxon sounded as the forward hangar door began to open. The hangar force field held and there was no loss of atmosphere through the opening.

  The crew stepped clear of Larry’s aircraft. The aircraft boss did a head count and signaled to Larry that they were clear. Larry started the ship's engines. First the port then the starboard roared to life. Lights on the deck began to flash directing Larry towards the open hangar door. He taxied the ship forward but before he exited the hangar, he turned towards the crew in their helmets and snapped a salute. He turned forward and moved the ship out onto the forward flight deck.

  He taxied forward to the middle of the deck. Unlike old naval carriers, there was no catapult launch and the takeoffs and landings were not as dramatic. Larry throttled up the engines and using his joystick, controller he lifted into a hover. He then pushed the stick forward and accelerated off the front of Lola’s flight deck.

  Larry did a quick radio com check with Iwona on the bridge. Everything was five by five. Larry set course for the system ahead and advanced his throttle to full military power. Lola disappeared behind him as if it were standing still, not traveling near its top speed.

  He’d travel for almost six hours before he entered the outermost limits of Chico7’s system. Lola would be following behind at a distance. Our plan, worked out yesterday over some of Nicky C’s special blend coffee, called for Larry to draw out any bandits lurking about. We were sure there was at least one ship. I expected more.

  Larry planned to enter the system, go silent, and activate his camo. He’d drift on a course different from the one he had come in on for his own protection. We didn’t want t
he bandits to be able to extrapolate his course and sit there waiting for him. We did expect them to try that with at least one ship.

  I had a hunch they had at least three ships in the area. To properly watch for intruders, you needed that many. The bandits had that and more, based on the intel we’ve received.

  As soon as Larry left our forward launch deck, I called Lola to general quarters. All hands were in their power suits with their helmets immediately at hand. Galley service was down to cold sandwiches and snacks. We didn’t want any open cooking flames in case of an emergency. The medical section stood fully staffed. They began distributing crash packs to each paramedic on board.

  The tension was high, but not extreme. Everyone took it well except for our VIPs. The experts were nervous. I invited them to the bridge to get an upfront view of what was happening. They all accepted. I knew that they'd soon become bored with the six hours flight Larry would have before he entered the system. That would help calm them some. Little did they realize that space warfare consisted of hours of complete frustrating boredom followed by seconds of intense fighting.

 

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