Shortcut rolled her eyes. “Basically, the nanocoat in here changes in real time to mimic the pod’s surroundings.”
“Thank you for explaining.”
“You’re welcome.”
Kazim glanced over and dipped an ear at Mark. He was thinking of the air-car his caste would give him. Tei’Shima flicked her ears, and he went back to work.
“The Hercules carrier is the latest in a long line of record-breaking ship designs built by Nstar,” Mark was saying. “It’s the largest warship currently in our catalogue.”
“How much does it cost?” Tei’Shima said. She ignored Varya’s quiet laughter at her choice of question.
“Well, that’s a complicated question—”
“That means it’s eye-wateringly expensive,” Zelda translated helpfully.
Shortcut snickered.
“I assure you that pricing at Nstar is competitive with our closest rivals,” Mark said.
“He means Faragut is charging just as much.”
Tei’Shima turned from Zelda and back to Mark in time to see him frown. The Harmonies revealed his irritation, but he kept it out of his voice admirably.
“To answer your question, a Hercules class carrier built to order, and ready for space in all respects, would cost almost 40 billion credits.”
Kazim’s camera swung to Zelda, and of course she obliged him. “What about that was complicated? 40 billion credits of our tax money per ship sounds like a steal! Oh wait, what about its weapons?”
“Well, as I said it’s complicated.”
“He means the ship is space-worthy but unarmed.”
Bruce, one of Zelda’s guards chuckled. Zelda called him Bruiser for some reason. The other warrior was Hazel. She went by Haze. She rolled her eyes at her employer’s antics.
“Is that true?” Tei’Shima asked. “That doesn’t seem like a very good deal.”
“She is, in fact, incorrect,” Mark said triumphantly.
Zelda frowned at that. The Harmonies revealed she’d spoken the truth, but Mark had as well.
“Ships leave our facilities fully operational. They’re armed with the latest point defence laser clusters and missile launchers, and come equipped with our patented electro-magnetic gatling cannons as standard. Our clients can rest assured that when they take delivery, all defensive and offensive armament is in place and top of the line. All they need do is supply their own munitions. We can supply those at need for an additional fee upon request.”
“What about the fighters and bombers it carries into battle?” Tei’Shima said. “Those must cost a lot.”
Mark nodded. “I’m sure they do, but Nstar builds capital ships, and leaves those to others.”
Zelda translated again. “Capital ships are the big ones.”
Tei’Shima hadn’t needed the translation this time. She wasn’t Fleet, but she hadn’t been completely ignorant even before becoming warrior caste. She knew the terminology.
“A fully crewed and functional ship must cost... twice 40 billion?” Tei’Shima guessed.
“If the navy had to purchase everything new, it might be on the order of 50 billion, but they don’t need to. Munitions are part of their ongoing budget, and small craft would most likely be transferred from decommissioned ships at no cost, or very little.”
“That’s assuming one-for-one replacement of capital ships,” Tei’Shima said.
Mark nodded.
That was a big assumption considering the Merkiaari threat. She doubted the navy would be comfortable decommissioning any of its ships under the circumstances. If she were them, she’d work on the principle that more ships were preferable to less no matter their age. They would need to buy a lot of fighter craft and bombers for their current build up. She wondered if her people might fulfil that need. An export of that sort would generate income and some much needed investment. She made a mental note to pitch the idea to her clan. She was Tei now and had to think of such things.
Mark continued his presentation. “A Hercules class carrier weighs 1.2 million tons displacement—”
“Wasn’t Hercules a male?” Tei’Shima said. “Human ships are female. A friend mentioned it once.”
That garnered her an appreciative look from Varya. He hadn’t heard of the hero, and neither had Kazim. The Harmonies revealed his surprise. Tei’Shima knew about Hercules from James. He used to be a history teacher. She’d learned Human ships were female from him as well, at her first meeting with him beneath the Kachina mountains. It had been her first ever interaction with a Human. A memorable time of firsts for her.
Mark nodded. “Hercules was indeed a man. A legendary hero who lived on Earth thousands of years ago.”
“Then why name a female ship after him?”
“I’ve got this, Mark,” Zelda said. “We don’t always name our ships after people, but when we do they’re usually someone we admire from our history. That person might be a man or a woman. We name ships for other things too. My ship is called Bad Penny. It comes from an ancient saying about a bad penny always turning up.”
“What is a penny?”
“An ancient form of currency. You know, a coin? It’s a physical form of money. A bad penny was a counterfeit coin. Those were obviously unwanted, so one turning up was bad news.”
“I fail to understand why you’d name your ship after an unlucky event.”
“Oh that’s easy. When I show up, it’s bad news for the other guy.”
Shortcut laughed.
Tei’Shima didn’t understand why that was funny, but she didn’t need to. “What about Hercules?”
“He was a great hero, and known as the world’s strongest man. Naming our biggest ship class after him is like saying these are our most powerful ships.”
“I think I see. Will the crew still call their ship, she?”
Zelda smiled. “Afraid so. All ships are she, no matter what her name is. It’s a Human thing.”
It certainly was a Human thing. It made no sense from a Shan standpoint. Kazim gestured urgently at Mark. He was such a taskmaster. Tei’Shima hastily considered questions to ask.
“How big are they, Mark?”
“They’re 1500 metres from bow to stern, and 300 metres at the beam. Due to its dual launch bay and hangar design, the ship can launch and retrieve fighters despite damage that might incapacitate lesser ships. The Hercules class uses four electro-magnetic catapults, not two. This allows for rapid deployment and retrieval of its fighters.”
“Impressive,” Tei’Shima said. “Crew?”
“Five-thousand is optimal, but the environmental systems can handle up to seven-thousand for short periods should the need arise.”
Mark reached the impressive bow of the ship and and sent them diving down to make the return trip from the underside. Tei’Shima stared up at the hull passing so close above them, and had a perfect view of its destruction.
It started small. She might have imagined the brief flash of light that caught her eye. They were moving just fast enough that she had to look back to check. The bloom of light was joined by others. Explosions rocked the great ship, and debris erupted from the hull. If Mark had been flying just a little slower, the pod would have been caught in the blast-wave.
Kazim noticed her inattention, and swung his camera in that direction. His sudden movement drew more eyes in time to see the ship’s death throes. The explosions caused the carrier to heave against its restraints, as if trying to escape its destruction. The massive docking arm closest to the pod sheared off as they passed it, and took a section of the ship’s hull with it. Worse, it ripped a hole in the station as it broke free. Atmosphere blasted out, as the remaining docking arms took the strain. They held for a few moments, but then buckled. One huge clamp slipped free, and the huge ship pivoted on its remaining restraints.
Tei’Shima’s thoughts raced through the possibilities. Was it an accident or malicious intent? Another flash of light caught her attention in the brief time she had to consider. This time the
station was the target.
Target?
Yes.
It must be enemy action then. The war had arrived at Pandora. Tei’Shima darted paranoid glances all around. The pod’s transparency aided her in that, but of course she had no chance of seeing the Merki with the naked eye. The vast distances involved meant they could have fired from millions of heikke away.
“Go down,” Tei’Shima gasped, only then realising Mark hadn’t reacted to the catastrophe evolving behind them. “Fly down!” she yelled.
“What?” Mark said and looked back. He saw it, and froze.
Shortcut leapt for the controls, and shoved Mark aside. He fell to hands and knees. She did something, and the pod lurched downward in a crazy spiral to avoid the many hazards spawning all around them. Behind them, the doomed carrier began to break up in earnest. Huge sections broke off, and Pandora’s gravity took charge of them.
Terrified yard workers, those lucky enough to be in pods outside the dying ship, abandoned their posts and raced for the station. Home and family were all they cared about now. It was the wrong thing to do. Tei’Shima understood the instinct to protect family and clan, but the station was doomed.
Hull-plating and support structures drifted free of the fleeing pods. No longer held in place for welding or whatever the engineers wanted to do with them, they added to the hazards blossoming all around them. Shortcut dodged between slowly spinning and colliding hull-plates at top speed, throwing her passengers around the pod in an effort not to hit anything. Everyone yelled as they rolled around inside, trying to grab something.
“Just like on the set,” Shortcut muttered under her breath, holding onto the controls like grim death. She belted in with one hand as if she did it every day. “It’s a sim. Not real. Not real. Stay calm and everything will be fine... oh shit!” The pod rolled, barely missing a fleeing pod. Everyone lost their footing again. “We’re fine! Don’t panic! No one panic! I’ve got this.”
Tei’Shima climbed back to her feet. If anyone was close to panicking, it was Shortcut. Everyone else was still in shock.
Mark clambered to his feet. “What are you doing?! There are regulations! I have emergency procedures to follow. We have to dock with the station immediately.”
“Screw that,” Shortcut muttered. “Let’s keep breathing and worry about proper procedure later.”
Breathing, yes, they might hit debris. There were chunks of broken ship drifting all around them now. Shortcut steered the pod violently at high speed to avoid them. Everyone held on as best they could.
Tei’Shima grabbed her helmet. “Helmets on!” She cried and followed her own order.
Kazim recorded it all. His ears were flat to his head, but as always his hands were steady. The result of the station’s explosive decompression was horribly obvious. People and equipment had been ejected through the gaping hole in the station as the atmosphere blasted out. Safety measures would ensure most survived in there for a time, but there were already bodies drifting away. Dozens and dozens of them.
Tei’Shima refused to see them as people. Absolutely refused. She didn’t want to identify any as younglings. They were obstacles. Hopefully Shortcut was too busy dodging them to notice what she was avoiding. Kazim hadn’t put his helmet on. She blocked his view of the chaos outside and snarled in his face. Her rumpled muzzle revealed her teeth clearly despite her helmet’s visor. She grabbed his helmet and forced it over his head, making sure it sealed. The indicators on his chest turned green. Good seal.
“Don’t you dare take it off!” She snarled at him over the open comm. She didn’t care that everyone heard her fear for him. “Don’t even move!”
“Someone help! I can’t take my hands off this!” Shortcut yelled. Zelda rushed to help with her helmet. “Thanks.”
“You’re doing great,” Zelda said and pointed to a clearing in the debris field. “Take us there.”
“Sure thing, Boss,” Shortcut said, in character now. “We need a plan. Got one handy?”
“Dock with the station!” Mark insisted.
“No!” Tei’Shima yelled, but her voice was drowned out by the others expressing their thoughts on that. Everyone agreed with her. “No.”
Shortcut slowed the pod’s mad dash when they cleared the debris. She stayed at the controls, ready to evade again if necessary, but they seemed safe for now. Zelda remained with her to help. Two pairs of eyes were better than one.
Kazim was still recording, but splitting his attention between the goings on outside, and those in the pod. He hadn’t removed his helmet. Varya was looking after him.
Mark was kneeling on the floor, staring through it, white-faced with shock. The destruction was below them, and hideously obvious even at this distance. The station and shipyard had turned into a tangle of wreckage. Bruiser and Haze were grimly silent, but they were warriors and holding on. Awaiting orders.
Tei’Shima took a breath and stared into Kazim’s camera unseeing. Memories of her father and the destruction of Hool Station filled her head. Kazim’s documentary films didn’t do the reality of such a calamity justice. Now she had personal experience to add flesh to the bones of her nightmare.
She went to join Zelda and Shortcut.
* * *
Part IV
35 ~ Merry Christmas
Southaven Province, Pandora
Eric found the Shan a genuine pleasure to work with despite the conditions. Maybe even because of them in a way. They were professional, likeable, and they found joy in work that many would not. Soldiers tended to bitch and moan about the most ridiculous things. Not the Shan. Tei’Laran’s warriors even managed to have fun in a blizzard!
Eric grinned as his men placed bets on the game, and laughed with them as Kisa disappeared into deep snow. Only her ear tufts could be seen, drooping a little now in embarrassment. She’d tried to pounce over what she’d thought was a shallow drift, but had landed in a depression filled with snow.
Gina laughed. “Ten more that Kisa still wins!”
“You’re on, LT,” Cragg said. “She’ll never catch Roldan now. He’s a sprinter.”
“She’s better at tactics. She’ll bring it home. You watch.”
“I’m watching,” Cragg said doubtfully.
“Oh ye of little faith. She’ll take him down at the halfway line.”
Eric snorted. Cragg was right, it would never happen. The snow was falling so heavily that he needed infra just to keep the players in sight. The Shan had no artificial aids. Once Kisa lost sight of Roldan, it would be over. He doubted the game would last much longer. Shan enjoyed snow, but even they needed to see each other and the pennants to play.
Roldan reached the goal line, and snatched the last pennant. It was the deciding point. Both had two each. Bring it home, and he’d win. Kisa managed to climb out of her predicament, and went in for the kill. She intercepted Roldan, and both Shan disappeared into deep snow.
“Roldan for the win!” Cragg shouted.
“Ki-saaah… Ki-saaah… Ki-saaah,” Gina chanted over Cragg’s bellows.
Both Shan appeared at the same time and bounded through the snow in little leaps to make headway. The conditions really were becoming unplayable. Shan and Human voices rose to encourage their champions. Roldan still had possession. The red flash of the pennant remained hooked to his harness strap. Kisa tackled him again, and they both rolled out of sight again.
The crowd hushed, everyone straining their eyes to see through the whiteout, but there was nothing to see. The conditions were worsening and the snow bank was too deep. Eric switched to motion sensors. Both Shan were wrestling for control of the pennant as if lives depended on it. Growls and snarls of effort came from their direction, and ended when Kisa exploded out of the snow with the pennant between her teeth.
“I told you! I told you!” Gina screamed in triumph as her champion brought home the bacon. “I told you!”
“Yeah,” Cragg said sourly, as he counted up his losses. “You told me.”
&nb
sp; Kisa dashed to victory and Gina went nuts. She jumped about the place waving her arms in the air. Eric laughed at the sour expression on Cragg’s face. Gina went to greet her hero, and the winners started trickling in to collect their money.
“It’s not the end of the world, Cragg,” Eric said. “Look at her. She needed cheering up.”
Cragg smiled briefly, but then wiped it away as his stack of platinum dwindled. In the end, the day’s take was barely above his original stake. Kisa had wiped out an entire week’s profit.
“Okay listen up,” Eric said over viper comm. “The weather is closing in. Secure your gear for a blow. Operation Stein begins tomorrow on schedule unless we get socked in.”
“You think we will?” Cragg said.
“Wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve seen stuff like this last for days. We’ve already lost comms from up top. Hammer reported the weather front moving in, and then nothing.”
Gina slogged back through thigh deep snow, still grinning. Her hair was turning white to match her armour. They’d all set their armour’s nanocoat to match the conditions. Behind her the Shan were heading into the trees. They would hunker down in big puppy-piles to wait out the storm. This was nothing to them. They really did like the snow.
Zack Gordon wrapped an arm around Cragg in commiseration. “Pay the lady.”
Gina snapped her fingers. “Gimme.”
Cragg sighed and handed over the last of his stash. “Merry fuckin’ Christmas.”
Gina chuckled. “You too. I didn’t even remember it was today, but yeah, you too Martin.” She switched to viper comm. “Merry Christmas Alpha Company.”
The entire company responded in a cacophony of over-lapping seasonal greetings. Gina beamed at Eric, her cheeks aglow from the cold.
“We better get under cover. This mess is getting worse,” Eric said.
They headed for camp.
The rest of the company was already hunkering down for the night. The rows of ten-man tents were going to be buried by morning. He’d chosen the hollow to shield them from observation, not weather. They were safe from the wind, but that was accident not design.
Incursion: Merkiaari Wars Book 5 Page 26