While Ritva and the others looked down at the helmet, Warlock brushed her right thumb against the holster. The crack of the helmet on her hip hid the unsnapping of the flap over her pistol.
“Supervisor Luz. I am sorry. A better student would have learned the hand signals for the crane operator,” Warlock stated as she held her arm out to her side and let the helmet drop to the deck. But she didn’t lower her arms. Instead, the retired Master Sergeant held her hand out flat with the palm facing downward. Then she let the wrist go limp and made small circles with her fingers.
Pablo’s eyes opened wide in recognition and he dove for the deck. Shouting as he dropped, “Down. Get down.”
But five of the mechanics didn’t need encouragement. They identified the crane signal and dropped. The other five were a second behind their crew mates requiring the verbal command to link the motion with Warlock’s hand signal. By the time their heads dropped, clearing a path for the soldiers’ rifles, the Marine was two steps beyond her original position.
The thirty-five rounds from the rifles crossed behind her back. As the soldiers adjusted, Warlock’s hand cannon cleared the holster and it boomed. A chunk of crate forced the soldier on the right to flinch making his rifle elevate. His rounds pinged off the overhead tracks. As he retreated and looked to reacquire the Marine, Warlock leaped over the bodies of the mechanics.
In midair, she swung the pistol across her body and put two rounds into the soldier on the left. Landing on a crate, she pivoted and pumped three rounds into the soldier on the right. Then two sharp pains alerted Warlock to Ritva’s presence. Thankfully the fish scale armor dispersed the impact of the rounds from Ritva’s pistol. But they hurt and Warlock knew she’d have bruises.
To avoid the incoming, Warlock rolled head first across the crate. At the edge, the Marine dropped to the deck and spun around seeking Captain Ritva. He was nowhere in sight.
“That’s for the children,” Candela spit out as her head appeared from between crates. A wrench, clutched in her hand, waved over something on the deck. “Get up so I can hit you again.”
Although she suspected who, Warlock circled the crate to see the target of the shipfitter’s anger. Captain Ritva sprawled on the deck, bled from a gash on the side of his head. He didn’t appear to be in any shape to get up and fight the woman.
“I don’t think he’s a threat,” Warlock announced as she kicked Ritva’s pistol away from his hand.
“Ha. I wanted to hit him harder but he turned towards you before I reached him,” explained Candela. “The wrench slipped so I only gave him a love tap.”
“That’s some tough love,” observed Warlock as she prodded Ritva with the toe of her boot. Then, looking around for Pablo, she called out. “Supervisor Luz. Do you have anything to say?”
***
Luz stepped between a pair of mechanics and climbed onto a shipping crate. At first, he frowned looking at each member of his crew, then a grin crept across his face.
“Man, oh man, did I screw up. Captain Ritva and his soldiers are here because of me,” Pablo admitted before glancing at the bodies of the dead soldiers. “Well a couple of them are still here. Lucky for me, Master Sergeant Alberich showed up. She saved the children and saved me. And probably saved our base, all no thanks to me.”
The news about the children caused a commotion and Luz stopped to let the mechanics and shipwrights digest the information.
“They are safe with Ryo Sota’s crews. Safe for now. But if I believe the Master Sergeant, and I have no reason not to, none of us will be safe when the Constabulary forces land,” he continued. “Given that I’m on the edge of exile and have lost your trust, I am asking for one thing.”
“What’s that Pablo?” Candela challenged while pointing the wrench at him.
“Time. Enough time to fix this before you send me away,” begged Pablo.
“What are you going to fix?” demanded one of the mechanics. “Dinner for the Empress?”
The grin faded for a second before it returned.
“My roast beef stew is fit for royalty,” boasted Luz.
“I’ve tasted your stew and it’s gross,” another mechanic stated.
“You said dinner for the Empress,” Luz explained. “If I wanted to feed her something excellent, I’d prepare my Realm famous salmon loaf.”
The mechanics and shipwrights burst out laughing. It went on for a long time. Maybe it was the break in tension or that Pablo’s salmon loaf was indeed bad, in any case, the crew relaxed and exchanged nods.
“Pablo Luz, you have your time,” Candela announced. “But after this is over, we’re holding a confidence, no confidence vote.”
“That’s fair,” Luz confirmed. “Two of you, arm yourselves and take Captain Ritva to the Command Deck. However, don’t take him into the control center. No matter what Iska Maricor says. You keep him in the hallway.”
“And what are you going to do?” inquired Candela.
“I’m going to get Doctor Marikit and Supervisor Sota,” Pablo said as he hopped off the crate.
Master Sergeant Alberich holstered her pistol as she strolled over to retrieve her rifle. After picking it off the deck, she did a weapon’s check as she walked back to stand beside the shipfitter.
“Candela. Have you seen a strange woman?” asked Warlock.
“Other than you?” the shipwright asked with a smile.
“She’s a little taller than me but thinner with dark hair,” Warlock described while ignoring the joke.
“Anybody see a strange woman come through here?” Candela called out.
“I saw someone in a vacuum suit go out the air curtain before the Captain herded us together,” a mechanic replied. “I thought it was one of us. But we’re all here.”
“That has to be Enyd Kealan,” announced Warlock. “I’m going after her.”
“Alberich. I need to speak with you,” Luz said beckoning her to where he stood with two large mechanics. Captain Ritva hung limp between the men. “Put disinfectant on the wound and a compress on his head. We need him alive. Then take him to the Command Deck. I’ll meet you there.”
“What can I do for you, Supervisor Luz?” asked Warlock.
“Master Sergeant, I’m not on the best of terms with Supervisor Sota,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d accompany me and vouch for my good intensions.”
“I have a previous engagement,” replied Warlock while pointing at the air curtain in the distance. “Enyd Kealan went outside. She is a Major in the Constabulary and dangerous. Not the kind of person you want roaming around free.”
“Candela. Put two armed workers at the entrance. If this Enyd Kealan comes through the air curtains arrest her or shoot her,” Luz ordered. Then turning to the Master Sergeant, he inquired. “Will that appease you until I have the base’s management staff gathered?”
“It’ll have to do,” admitted Warlock. “But I really need to question her before the Constabulary warship arrives.”
“Then we had better get moving,” Luz advised as he walked towards a cart.
***
Out of fear of being shot by Ryo’s crew, Pablo eased the cart to a stop before coming into view of the barricade.
“I’ll let you go and speak with them first,” offered Luz.
“An excellent idea,” Diosa agreed as she stepped out of the cart and slipped on the helmet.
“Do you think you’ll need that?” inquired Luz.
“Helmets are like fire extinguishers,” Diosa commented. “Most of the time you don’t need one. But when you do, it’s usually too late to go and find one.”
The retired Master Sergeant marched away and soon disappeared around the curve. Pablo Luz leaned his head back and thought. He had tried to protect salvage base from outside conflict but instead, created internal strife. His wish now was to bring the managers together and resolve it. The Galactic Council and the Empress would come and do what they wanted. Hopefully, the super powers would find a united base before th
eir missiles destroyed the moon. His stomach knotted even as he laughed at the absurdity of the situation.
Chapter – 18 Management in Turmoil
“Hold your fire,” Diosa pleaded as she walked down the center of the corridor with her arms stretched out from her sides. “Hold your fire. Friendly coming in. Someone, go fine Ryo Sota.”
As if a mantra, she repeated the words every couple of steps. Diosa noticed a few heads rise above the barrier. At least they were listening instead of shooting. But there was always one with an itchy trigger finger when you approached a barricade from down range.
“Who are you?” shouted a man as he stood and sighted down the barrel of a rifle.
“Diosa Alberich. Where is Kaito?” she inquired.
“Back with Ryo and the Doctor,” the man replied.
From behind the crates a second voice scolded, “Don’t tell her anything. Rebels always want to talk and collect information on your manpower.”
“Is that right? You trying to collect information on us?” the man shouted.
“Don’t ask her,” the other voice warned. “You know she’s going to lie.”
“Are you lying?” he called to Diosa.
“I haven’t made any statements. How could I lie?” explained Warlock. “I just need to speak with Ryo or Kaito.”
“Stay right there,” cautioned the man. He shook his rifle as if she might miss the fact he was armed.
A commotion erupted behind the man. Voices asking questions and others talking over each other trying to answer. Warlock watched the rifle barrel begin to bounce as the man’s nervous system reacted to the voices, the barricade and the tension of the last few days. Before he fired, Warlock squatted down to make as small a target as possible and smiled because she wore a face shielded helmet.
The man’s rifle spat out a round. It pinged over Warlock’s head and the voices behind the barricade increased in volume.
“Ryo. Ryo Sota!” she shouted. “Ryo.”
The supervisor appeared at the barrier. He looked around before locating the crouched figure.
“Who is it?” Ryo demanded.
“Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich,” Warlock answered.
“Stand up so I can see you,” suggested Ryo.
“I will. As soon as you get your trigger-happy crew under control,” Warlock assured him.
“Hold your fire. Hold your fire,” screamed Ryo. Then with less volume. “Come in Master Sergeant.”
Warlock stood and with her arms far out at her sides walked slowly towards the barricade.
***
Pablo Luz heard the shot and the round as it pinged off the wall ahead of him. Out of reflex he ducked and glanced at the passenger seat. There was no helmet and for that he was grateful. When no more shots followed he sat straighter and waited.
Fifteen minutes later, three shapes came from around the curved bulkhead. The green and black armor identified Alberich. As they neared, he recognized Ryo Sota and Doctor Marikit. Both were armed and Ryo’s arm was in a sling.
“Ryo. I know I messed up,” Pablo said raising his hands to show they were empty as he stepped from the cart. “My crews are going to hold a vote after this is over. I just wanted to tell you…”
But Ryo cut him off with a slash of his hand.
“I don’t care what you have to say,” Ryo growled. “Diosa tells me we have Captain Ritva under arrest. And there is a warship coming from the Empress Navy with troops intending to take salvage base. That’s all I want to hear from you. Understand?”
Pablo Luz was a good fifteen centimeters taller than Ryo Sota. Yet the shorter supervisor cowered the larger man.
“I understand. Let’s get to the Command Deck and I’ll tell you more,” Luz promised.
***
Iska Maricor stood with his fists on his hips glaring through the glass.
“For the last time, I’m ordering you to bring the Captain in here,” he shouted.
“Sorry Captain Maricor, but Supervisor Luz was pretty clear,” a mechanic replied. “He said to stay in the hall and that’s what we’ll do.”
“After this is over, you will be invited to leave salvage base,” Maricor threatened.
Iska kicked the glass, spun around and stomped back to the radio platform.
Both mechanics shrugged as if they didn’t care. Truthfully, they did care and were tempted to take Ritva into the glass enclosure. But Luz had always been a good boss with the wellbeing of his crews coming first. He also made them bonus Pesetas which came in a close second. Before their resolve melted away, a cart entered the hallway from the first ring corridor. The mechanics guarding Ritva relaxed when they recognized Pablo Luz driving the vehicle.
“How is Ritva?” Luz inquired as he stepped from the cart.
“The Captain is a little groggy but he managed to inform us that when the Constabulary arrive, we will be put against a wall and shot,” one of the mechanics replied. “Oh and, he said the Empress loves us. Funny way of showing it if you ask me.”
“And how is Captain Maricor?”
“He said pretty much the same thing,” the other mechanic commented. “Except for the part about the Empress’ feelings for us. His feelings were more straight forward.”
“Supervisor Sota. Can I depend on you to take care of my men when this is over?” inquired Luz.
Ryo glanced at Ritva sitting on the deck with bandages wrapped around his head. Then he eyed Iska Maricor standing on the radio platform sneering at the group in the hallway.
“They will be fine,” promised Ryo. “Bring me up to speed.”
“There is a damaged Constabulary warship about to enter orbit. According to Master Sergeant Alberich, if they come down and occupy the base, they will change the environment,” Luz explained. “Our problem is do we repair the warship and, if so, how do we prevent them from taking the base?”
“They don’t want the base or this isolated moon,” Iska’s voice announced over the speaker. “Who would want it other than a bunch of misfits? I’m going to invite their engineers down for a tour. Just like we do for every ship that does business with us. Nothing has changed.”
“That isn’t a good idea,” Doctor Marikit said. “I’ve done a little research with the available bandwidth you’ve allowed us, Captain Maricor. Deep in the medical files, there is a note about the strange environmental requirements imposed on Constabulary ships.”
“Great, now our medical professional is a military expert. You are supposing, Doctor, the Empress wants this pile of junk,” Maricor added. “All we have is the word of a one eyed, professional killer. She’s not a source I’d trust.”
Everybody looked at Warlock to see her reaction to the insult.
“Captain Maricor is correct. I am exactly what he describes,” admitted the former Striker. “However, I have been on Constabulary warships and can report that the air is hard to breathe.”
She wanted to tell them more but her specific knowledge came from a secret POW camp where Constabulary Troops were held. It was enough of a breach of security to tell them that she had engaged the Constabulary directly. Informing them about the source of her information and the POW camp was punishable by firing squad.
“Captain Maricor. Your two supervisors and our doctor request a manager’s conference,” Ryo declared. “Under our rules of incorporation, I demand you open the doors so we can convene the talks.”
There was a hesitation before a buzzer sounded and the locks on the glass doors clicked off. Ryo indicated for the mechanics to stay in the hallway with Ritva. Doctor Marikit and Pablo Luz entered the glass control center and Ryo started to follow. Then the radio came alive.
“Salvage base, this is her majesty’s warship El Enara Loco of the Empress’ Royal Navy,” a heavily accented voice announced. “Commodore Oskari, commanding.”
“We read you,” Iska radioed back. “Welcome to salvage base.”
“You will forward landing instructions for our shuttles. Any resistance will be deal
t with severely,” the voice warned. “Commodore Oskari expects the repairs to be completed quickly. Anyone delaying the Enara’s repairs and departure will be dealt with severely.”
Iska Maricor’s jaw dropped and he stared at the microphone. When he didn’t respond, Pablo Luz leaped to the platform.
“El Enara Loco, this is Supervisor Luz. Please send a list of required parts and pictures of your hull damage,” he requested. “Salvage base personnel will prep parts and hull sections to hasten your departure.”
“That is acceptable,” the voice replied.
“How far out is it?” Ryo inquired.
“Looks to be about four and a half hours until it enters orbit,” Luz reported after checking the radar screen. “We’d better decide our approach before…”
“We are dealt with severely,” Doctor Marikit tossed out.
“Supervisor Sota. I’ve another mission,” Warlock advise Ryo.
“Fine Master Sergeant,” Ryo responded. “This is a closed meeting anyway.”
Before Warlock stepped away, Iska Maricor ventured.
“We have Captain Ritva,” he exclaimed. “We can use him to bargain with Commodore Oskari.”
The Marine shook her head at the fruitless idea as she marched up the hallway.
***
Diosa wished she had a safety officer, a quartermaster and time to validate the integrity of the GCMC armor. Without certification, she needed to exchange the comfort of body armor for an airtight vacuum suit.
“The only place for her out there is a hull,” Candela explained as she offered the head cover to Diosa. “It’s too far to walk to another warehouse without water. The dust seems light and fluffy but you have to lift your legs to step over rocks. It wears you out quickly.”
“Which hull?” asked Diosa.
“The clipper ship to the right,” advised the shipwright. “It’s the only one mostly intact.”
Diosa pulled on the cover, sealed the edges and turned on the air supply. Candela ran an oxygen detector over the seams of the suit.
“Seals are tight,” she informed Diosa. “Air flow?”
Op File Treason Page 15