“Agreed.”
“I shall have my team modify your stern gun as soon as we return.”
“Mack, will you work with Master Varrini to supply a full load-out of these rockets? I don’t want to run out.”
‘Absolutely Captain.”
“And, I compliment you on Griffin’s gravity generator, Master Varrini. I forgot we were in space.”
“Thank you, Captain Marston. I shall pass the compliment on to my team.”
“Again, thank you for all of your hard work, Master Varrini. Keiko, Buster, back to base.”
Onboard Heimdallr
Thirty days. Twelve getting from Novius to Bridgelen. Two days sneaking to the Corrinar gate, all the while collecting Intel and firing it off to Cencore. Fourteen days through the gate to Corrinar.
“Well, Cap. Here we are. Ass-end of the Federacy.”
“Don’t be so grumpy, Brooksy.”
“Just worried about home, Cap. You saw all those bug ships amassed at the Cencore gate. By the time we got here, Cencore could be gone. Everyone gone.” His anguish seeped into his voice.
“Can’t think that way, Brooksy. Can’t give up. We find Odin. Number Three will figure something out.”
“Yeah. How to die.”
“Belay that, Lieutenant! Shut your hole! Toast! What have we got?”
“Empty, Cap. Just like Novius.”
“No Odin?”
“Not here.”
“Ok. Brooksy! Get back in the game! Get us to Arium. Decent speed. Nothing painful.”
“Will do, Captain. Sorry about the pity party.”
“I’m just sorry I didn’t bring any cheese to go with your whine.”
“Very funny, Toast.”
“Time frame?”
“One day crossing. Six days in the hole. A week.”
“Get to it, Brooksy. Toast. Keep scanning. We’ll drop a buoy. Leave it for any stragglers. Tell them where we’re heading.”
“I’ll drop it here, close to the gate.”
“Good thinking. This six days, no sleep juice. I want a full schedule. For all of us. We’ve been too flaccid for the last month.”
“Speak for yourself, Cap.”
“Dream on, Brooksy.”
“Only of you, Toast.”
“Full sim practice. Physical training. Toast, set up a schedule. Dig out the maintenance manuals and gear. Looks like Heimdallr is going to be our home for a very long time. I want it, and us, to be lean, sharp and squared away when we hit Arium.”
“Can I pee first, Cap?”
“Ha, ha. Let’s go peeps. We’ve got a war to win.”
For six days Lieutenant Torres made sure that Lieutenant, Junior Grade Brooks paid for every sexist remark he’d made in the last four years that Heimdallr’s team had been together. Brooks worked his butt off, proving that he could take it. She matched him, if not in strength or reps, in effort and sweat. With those two going head-to-head, Captain Scott fought to keep up.
Day six, just before exiting the worm hole and entering Arium, saw a spotless, well-tuned scout ship with a crew alert and ready.
“Cap, thirty minutes.”
“Thanks, Brooksy. Button up, Peeps. Toast, get us dark. Brooksy, just drift. No thrust.”
“Going to keep a charge of slurry hot and ready, Cap. We can punch it any time.”
“Toast, Brooksy. Don’t wait. See something, do something. You don’t need to keep me in the loop.”
Torres worked her board, shutting everything down except life support and passive sensors. Brooks continued to monitor his gauges, ready to fire up the drives and flee at a moment’s notice.”
Thirty minutes later a buttoned down, dead-dark scout ship drifted through the gate and into Arium space.
“Hot Suns, Captain. I’m seeing a couple of thousand ships out here.”
“Bugs?”
“No, Cap. Ours.”
“Well, I guess we know where Novius and Corrinar went. What are they doing?”
“Typical in-system stuff. To and from Latinia. Lots in the asteroid belts, probably mining and hauling. Well, well, well. I found Odin.”
“Where?”
Cosied up to an asteroid. Weird.”
“Weiskoff may be a pain, but he is a good thinker. He’s doing something. Brooksy, get us in. Toast, tight beam Odin. Let her know we’re coming in.”
Onboard Odin
“Vice-Admiral Weiskoff doesn’t like us very much, Gary.”
“You have the gift of understatement, Doctor,” Odin’s Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Hartman, responded
“Ya, well. Three weeks and he’s never set foot in the yards. He is stubborn I will give him that. At least he stayed out of our way. Thanks for all of the help with the plans and design, by the way.”
“No problem, Hank. It’s what us chief engineers do.”
“Well, I thank ya, anyway, Gary.”
“You need to be careful, Doctor. Weiskoff, he carries grudges.”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute, Captain Brewer. But, Mr. Gregor got him to sign that Letter of Marquee. That should keep him.”
“During the war. But after? Don’t bet on it. Where do we stand with the X-cannons?”
“Well, Mr. Hartman, we’re standing in your number nine hold.”
“Ha, ha.”
“As you can see, we’ve got five of your nine fission generators installed. We just finished connecting them up to the five X-cannons. Three at the bow and the double on the top. Four more will fit here. No problem. Those will be for the double on the bottom and the other on the stern.”
Cycle time still the same?”
“Ya, Captain. Ten seconds.”
“Then the nose, rotating fire, will get off a shot every three seconds, or so.”
“Figure on four, counting human reaction.”
“What about computerizing the firing sequence?”
“Thought of that. In the works. We want to build in a three-setting switch for the nose guns. One for single fire. One for a triple round. And one for five repeats. Any more and we lose the gun from overheating.”
“Same with the doubles?”
“Ya. Only double rounds, six second windows of course.”
“Range of coverage?”
“The nose triple, hundred and eighty degrees, up, down, side to side, Captain. Same for the stern double. The doubles on top and bottom, full three-sixty rotation, full ninety degrees up and a ten degree decline. That gives you the ability to fire seven X-cannons at a single, forward focal point. Say an alien super dreadnaught.”
“Nasty.”
“Meant to be, Captain. Oh, and we’re on target for building up our little space fleet, getting these zappers installed, right quick.”
“How fast?”
“Two, sometimes three, a day. Give us a year, and we’ll have a thousand ships ready for those bugs.”
“I hope we get it. How are the repairs coming?”
“Shelley came through. After Gary gave us the plate requirements, Shelley got them up here quick. Those old miners are getting your ship all nice and shiny again, Captain.”
“Good. Still sticking to ninety percent effective?”
“Ya. Your new plating is almost as strong as the original.”
“Internals?”
“Got a team working it. Dean’s with them.”
“Good. I have a ship full of crew and a bunch of angry Marines that want to get back into the fight.”
“We’ll get you there, Captain.”
Oishi Scout Team
Oishi and Juro had just broken camp and loaded their packs when a swarm of drones flashed up the canyon, hugging the river. The two Nightshades had just enough time to activate their chameleon suits and press up against the wall. With years of training, the two never moved, never flinched, as multiple drones hovered over their little strand of beach. They remained perfectly still as the drones minutely scanned the ground. One drone discovered an indentation. A swirl out of the ordinary.
It stayed, holding a low position, marking the spot. The other four drones continued on, searching the river, searching for the humans loose in the alien’s midst.
Slowly reaching a hand out, Taketa found Juro’s.
“Up the wall,” he signed into Juro’s palm
Without waiting for a response, Taketa very carefully half turned to face the cliff and very slowly made his first reach. Secure in the knowledge that Juro followed, the Nightshade leader free-climbed. Once, a rock broke loose and careened to the beach.
The sentry drone immediately lifted and began scanning the cliff face. Taketa froze, instinctively knowing that Juro did the same. During the alien drone’s slow search, with no ability to move, Taketa began to tighten up. Leg muscles began to knot. Arms began to fatigue.
At last the drone returned to its position, guarding the abnormality in the sand, waiting for its alien controllers to arrive.
What took two hours to descend took four hours to climb. At last two, almost invisible, completely exhausted Nightshades pulled themselves over the lip, belly-crawled a distance into the forest and collapsed.
Taketa saw the depressed groundcover announcing Juro’s position. Slowly crabbing over, again he took Juro’s hand.
“Take ten. Then we move.”
“Hai,” his Mappai signed back.
Ten minutes later the two Nightshades moved deeper into the forest, found a stand of thick bushes and wriggled in. Once fully concealed, Taketa deactivated his chameleon suit. Juro duplicated the action. Digging out his tablet, the Sousui brought his drone down and scanned their hide and the surrounding forest.
“No patrols yet,” he whispered.
Using the drone to scout the direction of their destination, again, Taketa found no patrols.
“We move out. Travel through the night. Hide tomorrow.”
“Hai, Sousui.”
Trotzig
The Tolimar board, with Lawrence Gregor, leisurely strolled the outside parameter of the Trotzig wall. Staring down the impressive, granite fortification, the eight power brokers saw massive, metal doors, numerous gun towers and hundreds of battlements.
The loud shouting and cadence counting of the thousands of Tolimarian Defense Force drove them to talking loudly during their inspection.
“We look ready, Mr. Gregor.”
“The walls and medical center are, Governor. The last two weeks put on the final touches. And, with Mr. Thorne administering the medical center, he’s been able to get everyone placed and routines defined. We’re still working on the munitions delivery systems. They should be in place this week.”
“The Defense Force?”
“That’s not my area. Let me get Lieutenant Rosser.”
“I think it is time to change that. I think that, since he is in charge of our entire ground force, he should have a new rank. Something more encompassing.”
“I don’t think our Vice-Admiral Weiskoff would go for that. Us willy-nilly promoting a retired Federacy officer.”
“That is true, Mz. Brandt.”
“We could make up a title. That way he keeps his rank but can still carry more prestige.”
“You have something in mind, Mr. Roth?”
“Well, Corry, as you said, does command our entire command force. So, let’s make him a Field Marshal.”
“The Federacy already has a rank of Field Marshal. In the Army.”
“Ok. Since Tolimar started out as a German colony, ‘FeldMarschal’.”
“We don’t have a title like that.”
“So, we make it up. Make up a special insignia. Make it all official.”
“I can go with that. Board? Take a vote?”
“All seven members of the board voted ‘aye’.
“The aye’s have it. Where do we get the patch made?”
“Mrs. Grey? Would you contact Harriet? She can work something up and have one or our printers generate it.”
“Certainly, Mr. Gregor.”
While Gregor’s IT Specialist and board member used her com to contact Harriet, Gregor did the same with Lieutenant Rosser. Mrs. Grey finished. The eight people watched Rosser sprint across the training grounds, faster than a normal person ever could. Coming to a stop, Corry didn’t even breathe hard, as though his last exertion never happened.
“You called, Mr. Gregor?”
Governor Kaufman stepped in. “Yes, Lieutenant Rosser. The board has passed a resolution. We have awarded you the Tolimarian title of ‘FeldMarschal’.”
“I didn’t know we had that rank.”
“The Federacy doesn’t. Now Tolimar does. Congratulations, FeldMarschal Rosser.”
“Thank you, Governor.”
“Also, we would like an informal report on your progress with our Defense Force.”
“We’ve set up our first regiment of twenty-eight thousand, eight hundred enhanced men and women. The regiment has been broken into five battalions of five thousand, six hundred and seventy. What you are seeing here is the fifth battalion of the first regiment just starting their first week of a two week fitness and evaluation camp. The other four battalions have completed their evaluations and Master Sergeant Stein, with other senior people, is assigning them to specific ninety person platoons.”
“Are you pleased with the progress?”
“Very much so, Governor. Once we get through this first regiment, we will be able to deploy it at strategic positions around our main settlements. Based upon the number of enhanced people reporting in, we have a little under six more regiments ready for training and deployment. We will make a good showing.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
“Not at all, Sir.”
Lieutenant, now FeldMarschal, Rosser sprinted back to his charges.
“It all seems to be coming together.”
“A little at a time, Governor,” Gregor responded.
“How are my miners doing with your new cave?”
“Very well, Mz. Brandt. Give them a couple of more weeks and we’ll have a good chunk of our mountain hollowed out and supported.”
“I just wish we had more diggers. If we could riddle Tolimar with caves and bunkers, a lot more of our people would be safe.”
“If paupers had horses, they’d ride.”
“An old woman can wish, youngster.”
“Listen to you, Richelle. You’re not old. Hell, I’ve got years on you.”
“You old coot, Kevin. I don’t know how you do it, with all that drinking and eating.”
“That’s what keeps me young.”
“Well, I’d still like some more miners. What about your space miners, Mr. Gregor?”
“I’d like to get some in. But those rock hounds have spent too much time in space. Tolimar’s gravity would kill them. I’m afraid we are stuck with who we’ve got, Mz. Brandt.”
“Shall we continue our walk?” Mz. Brandt asked as she took Gregor’s arm.
Chapter 10
Onboard Griffin
Mack followed as Master Varrini led him on tour of the almost completed housing for the eight royal guardsmen which were to accompany Princess Analyn on her journey. The skeleton for six more Elonian shelters lined up, next to Gopai’s. Multiple Elonians swarmed over the structure, each doing his or her assigned task, getting Griffin ready for her flight home.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea Vinnie?”
“What?”
“Putting the shelters next to Gopai’s. What with his getting kicked out of the Royal Guardsmen, and all.”
“Wouldn’t make any difference, Mack. The ship is so small, they’re going to get in each other’s way, anyway.”
“There is that. Just wondering.”
“Besides, this way, we need only one setup for all the plumbing and cooling. I just had Gopai’s unit swapped out for a larger cooling pump. The shelter next to Gopai will be set up as a community sanitation room.”
“That works. How we coming with getting the executive suite set up for the Princess?’
; “Haven’t started yet.”
“What about her maids?”
“Just the two. One of these shelters.”
“No problems, women being around military types?”
“Better not be. Everyone is royal blood in one way or another. King Kaporine decreed that. Besides, anyone getting out of line will answer to Sir Mahajani. Not a good idea.”
“Ya. He is one tough cat. Oops, sorry.”
“Cut it out. We have many of the same features as your native cats. Some of them are rather majestic. Just not so smart. I don’t consider it a derogatory term. But I would recommend that you don’t call any of the guardsmen ‘cats’. They probably wouldn’t like it.”
“I’ll watch it. “You’re royal?”
“No. Not even the same clan. Popalya Clan”
So, the room next to Gopai is the sanitation facility. Four guardsmen’s quarters. Last one, maid’s quarters.”
“That’s how I see it.”
“Gravity rockets?”
“Components are being printed as we speak. We’ll assemble them at your work station. Store them with the other munitions.”
“Loading racks?”
“Same thing.”
“So what, ten, twelve days and we’re ready?”
“Fourteen at the most, Sir Mack. Oh, and another thing.”
“Tell me.”
“I’ve been reverse engineering your chameleon suit. The eight Royal Guardsmen now assigned to The Princess are now capable of light bending.”
“I don’t know if Cap will like that, invisible Elonians running around the ship. But it is a good idea.”
“I’ll have the suits returned.”
“No, don’t do that. We may need them. Give them to me. I’ll store them. Oh, and, could you make more? For everyone on Griffin? Vidhee and Buster included?”
“Yes. I would need everyone to be scanned for proper fitting.”
“I’ll get you your scans. I’ll talk to Sir Mahajani to get the scans of Princess Analyn and her maids. Could they be completed by the time we are ready to leave?”
“Easily. The control module is already written. And the printer already contains the raw material.”
Meeting in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 3) Page 18