Decker's War Omnibus 1

by Eric Thomson

He patted the bulkhead by his console.

  “Not to mention that you’d be turning something worth God knows how many millions into scrap. I haven’t heard of any Sera Moneybags with that kind of funding,” a knowing, almost ironic smile briefly crossed her lips, “and I doubt your underwriter would pay out if you did it yourself.”

  “Underwriter?” Decker put on a puzzled expression. “Damn. I knew I’d forgotten to do something before we left home. Honey, make sure you don’t dent this thing any more than you already have. I forgot to buy insurance.”

  Talyn made a rude gesture over her shoulder.

  “Now hear this,” she said, “you two will shut up unless you have information vital to this ship’s continuing survival to impart. A distracted helmswoman is a dangerous helmswoman.”

  “Aye, aye, mon capitaine.” Decker tossed off a salute, then winked at Steiger.

  **

  “Did they say what kind of damage?” Verrill asked his deputy.

  The two of them and Tran Kidder stood at the foot of Marilan’s ramp, a safe distance from the riverbank and five hundred meters short of the massive overhang hiding the channel.

  “No. Only that they couldn’t do a vertical landing and needed a lot of room,” she replied with a shrug. “The river is it.”

  “I’m not sure I like this.” He looked back to where the broad, lazy waterway vanished beneath millions of tons of rock, to re-appear kilometers away in another valley. “If they overshoot, we’ll have a massive catastrophe on our hands. I’d have been happier if they were coming in from the other direction, but there’s no helping that now.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Kidder said. “Zack’s no fool, and he wouldn’t be working with Captain Pasek if she didn’t know how to fly a starship.”

  “From your lips to God’s ear, Tran.” Verrill clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll try to look at the upside for now – it being that your Mister Decker will be stuck here until they make repairs, and we’ll use the time to good advantage.”

  “Verrill,” the woman, binoculars glued to her eyes, nudged him, “I’ve got them. They’re perfectly lined up, but they look like they’re still going pretty fast.”

  “Right. Tran, light the beacons. Let’s give them every bit of help we can.”

  He turned back to the woman and held out his right hand.

  “Pass me those, Corde. If they’re going to give me a heart attack, I’d rather see it coming from a distance.”

  **

  “They’ve lit markers,” Zack announced. “You should be able to see them.”

  “Yup,” Talyn replied through clenched teeth. Beads of sweat had formed along her hairline and upper lip, and her usually pale skin was whiter than ever.

  Bright red lights on both banks marched into the rapidly deepening valley where late afternoon mist rose from the leaden surface of the broad, slow river.

  Zack felt his stomach clench when they dropped below the mountaintops, headed for the water at a shallow angle. Ochre and gray rocks formations, covered with sparse vegetation, whizzed by on either side of the ship at an alarming tempo.

  “Come on,” Talyn muttered to herself. “Let’s get that airspeed down.”

  The far end of the valley was rapidly approaching, and suddenly those ten kilometers seemed much too short.

  “Fuck it,” Talyn shook her head, having concluded they weren’t going to come to a halt in time. “Hang on folks. I’ll have to do this the hard way.”

  The few remaining meters separating Phoenix’s keel from the river’s surface vanished and her hull kissed the water. She immediately sprouted a massive rooster tail, sending droplets almost to the top of the surrounding mountains, but the additional friction was enough to drain her excess forward momentum.

  Decker realized that he’d been holding his breath when the pressure in his chest became unbearable, and he forced himself to relax, knowing that whatever happened next, there was nothing he could do. At least, he consoled himself, the rebels had been smart enough to land the freighters far enough from the grassy embankments to give them extra room.

  Their remaining thrusters whined loudly, fighting with the antigrav modules to keep the ship upright and stable. Talyn didn’t dare deploy the landing gear until they’d come to a complete stop, lest the massive legs catch on a submerged rock and send them careening into a cliff wall, or worse, into one of the other starships.

  “Zack, find out what the river’s depth is, stat,” she shouted over her shoulder once the realization that she’d forgotten to check hit her. “If it’s too deep, we have other problems to deal with.”

  “No fear,” he replied after glancing at his sensor readout, “three or four meters max, and I’d say solid bottom too, but that might be immaterial. I think we’ve got a couple of ground controllers waving us into the ‘hangar’; they’ll not want us to set down just yet.”

  Phoenix had slowed to a walking pace by the time the former yacht hovered past the rebels watching her arrival with bated breath.

  Decker saw Verrill, accompanied by Tran and an unknown, middle-aged woman standing by Marilan. The rebel leader’s applause seemed enthusiastic from a distance, though whether it celebrated Talyn’s piloting skills or a landing that didn’t break anything remained open to debate.

  “We have a good twenty meters overhead clearance,” he reported, anticipating Talyn’s next concern, “more if you’d like to drown the lower hull a bit.”

  “Thanks.” Although Zack and Steiger had begun to relax, Talyn wasn’t quite done yet.

  She steered the ship slowly beneath the overhang, mindful of the three rebels with light wands waving her forward.

  Decker switched on the landing lights, revealing a broad, deep space left behind from a time when the river had been a raging demon rather than the placid waterway it was today.

  Steiger hadn’t been kidding. If necessary, they could fit one of the freighters in with them.

  Four thuds resonated through the hull, announcing the release of the landing gear so that the moment the ground guides motioned them to stop, Talyn could set Phoenix down.

  Finally, a few tense minutes later, the light wands stopped their slow come-hither movements and turned into red crosses above the men’s heads.

  Talyn gently decreased the power feed to the antigrav modules, and the yacht settled on dry ground with a tiny shudder. She slumped back in her seat and groaned.

  “I do not want to do something like that ever again. As in never, ever, even if I live long enough to witness the end of the universe. I’m not even sure I want to try flying her out of here again anytime soon.”

  “I’d offer you a session at Zack’s spa and massage parlor, but I think our clients will want our full attention until further notice.”

  He nonetheless walked over to stand behind the helm chair, placed his hands on her shoulders, and began kneading knotted muscles.

  **

  “That was some impressive flying, Captain Pasek.” Verrill shook Talyn’s hand enthusiastically. “Though I’ll confess that when you touched the water’s surface, I was afraid we were witnessing the start of a catastrophe.”

  “And I’m feeling amazingly drained,” she replied with a wan smile.

  “Understandably so. If you’d like to take a few hours to rest while we unload, please feel free to do so. We’re in no hurry to move out, and I’m sure you’ll want to secure your ship before we go.”

  “Security would be his thing.” She pointed at Zack with her thumb. “And please call me Hera. Pru Pasek flies starships. Hera is my ground action nom de guerre. I’ll be fine after a quick meal and some coffee. How far are we going?”

  “Our group is heading down the river tunnel to the next valley where our main camp is hidden. It’s just under fifteen kilometers.”

  “I can’t help thinking,” she said, “that maybe our shuttle could be of use.”

  “Perhaps,” Verrill smiled. “But not for this. We’ve got everything planned and se
t up to move what you and the other ships have brought us. I’d rather keep your shuttle in reserve for something that might give the government severe heartburn.”

  He stopped speaking and looked at Decker and Talyn in turn searching for something in their eyes.

  “Might I conclude,” he finally said, “that you’ve decided to accept my offer to work for us as military experts for a while, until you decide what needs to be done for your ship?”

  “You may.” The Marine rubbed his hands together. “There’s nothing I enjoy more than knocking dumb-ass colonial militia heads together.”

  Tran Kidder beamed at his former commanding officer.

  “I’m really glad you’re sticking around.”

  Decker put his arm around the man’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “We can relive some of our old glory days when we were the howling madmen of Decker’s Demons and show these fine folks how it’s done.”

  Talyn chuckled at her partner’s tone.

  “I wasn’t intending to stay beyond unloading your cargo,” she told Verrill, “but I can’t risk flying through the Avalon blockade with the damage we’ve taken. Their captains will be looking for blood the moment they see us and Zack is fresh out of missiles, low on gun ammo and definitely out of ways to surprise them. Two sloops against a yacht doesn’t end well once they’re on to us.”

  “In that case, your misfortune is our luck. I’ll see what I can do to help you with repairs, but I’m afraid that might take time.”

  “It might take you seizing a spaceport with maintenance facilities and spare parts, as a matter of fact,” she replied with a tired shrug. “Either way, we have nothing better to do, so count us in.”

  “I will, thank you.”

  As Verrill turned to leave, Decker asked, “Did you speak with your friend Roste about the Jackals?”

  “I did. He assured me that he and the crew of Clio took all necessary precautions.”

  “Mind if I speak to him? I’ve got some experience with the Confederacy?”

  “I wouldn’t mind, but he’s already gone to rejoin his unit along with their share of the supplies.”

  “That was mighty fast.”

  “Their base is the most distant and so they need to cover as much ground as possible before nightfall.”

  “How convenient,” Decker muttered when the rebel leader was out of earshot.

  “Try not to take it personally.” She motioned towards the ship. “Let’s go sort ourselves out.”

  **

  Talyn tore the lid off her food tray and sighed.

  “I’m not sure that I’ll miss this fine dining, but then, we have no idea what the rebels’ catering is like.”

  “Provided it’s not rat-bars three times a day, we’ll live.” Decker sat down across from her with his food and grinned. “Admit it; what you’ll really miss is living in luxury on a ship you command.”

  “That too,” she admitted, “but try not to gloat at getting your wish to help Tran and his mates.”

  “I never gloat.” Decker put on a mock-wounded look. “I’m only pleased that we’ll get a chance to weasel our way into the rebels’ good graces and find out who’s backing them, how they’re doing it and more importantly why.”

  “And you get to fight the good fight while carrying out your intelligence gathering duties. I understand. You can’t help it - you’re a Marine.”

  “I’ll tell you what else we’ll be able to do,” he replied before popping a piece of meat into his mouth and chewing slowly.

  She raised her eyebrows in question, waiting for him to elaborate. Once he’d swallowed, the earlier grin returned.

  “Maybe we can help sort this brush fire out before it turns into the kind of flaming inferno that gets the Senate’s attention, followed shortly after that by a few thousand Marines doing a heavily armed tour of Garonne’s sights. That never ends well for the locals.”

  “Pretty tall order for two intelligence agents, one of whom isn’t a ground pounder and the other isn’t a great strategist like Napoleon.”

  “Napoleon had his ass handed to him at the end. You can’t be great if you end your life on a God forsaken island with no entertainment other than a bunch of sea birds. But I’ll go with your lame attempt at a joke and give you this thought: when the man won, it was because his opponents were crap. When his opponents had their shit together, he lost, and usually ran away, leaving his troops in the lurch. I’m hoping the colonial government and its militia don’t have their shit together. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

  “Just a small reminder, Chief Warrant Officer Decker, we’re not here to carry out a regime change but to find answers to the questions the analysts have been asking. Once we have those answers, we’re out. Capisce?”

  Zack tossed off a salute.

  “Aye, aye, Commander Talyn, sir.”

  She held his eyes for a few moments, to make sure he understood that her order was non-negotiable, but she saw just enough of a rebellious hint in his stare to know he wasn’t going to go quietly.

  “I mean it, Zack. Captain Ulrich will strangle us with our own guts in front of the entire special operations section if we go rogue.”

  “Only if we fail. We nail this before it becomes a big problem, and it’ll be promotions for everyone.”

  When she didn’t reply, he shrugged and got up to stow his empty tray.

  “Time for one last taste of the good stuff.” He took a bottle from the cooler, opened it, and downed half in a single gulp. “Ahh. I’ll miss that more than anything else. Speaking of which, you want to have a quick romp before I shut this thing down? I doubt the rebel camp is big on privacy.”

  “Beer and sex. Why does it always come down to beer and sex with you?”

  “Because I know how to enjoy life. C’mon, I want to see my commanding officer in the buff one last time before we go where there are no showers.”

  **

  Talyn dropped her heavy pack by the airlock and turned to Zack. Their grace period was over, the weaponry they and the freighters had carried was gone, and the latter had lifted, one at a time, to leave Garonne far behind. The time had come to leave Phoenix behind.

  “Talk me through the security measures one last time, big boy.”

  “Right.” Decker looked up at the deck head and ticked them off one by one. “The virus is set and will wipe the computer core beyond recovery if anyone other than us or someone sent by the boss tries to access anything without the proper codes. The weapons and ammo lockers might as well be welded shut for all the good it’s going to do anyone without the right passcode. The navigation system is locked out, and the AI will not accept any orders unless it hears the magic word. All airlocks, outer hatches, and the ramp are locked; the gun turrets and launcher bays are covered up and locked down, and once we step out of this airlock, the AI will shut it behind us. This ship isn’t getting out of here unless you or one of our naval colleagues is at the helm.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  “My turn,” he said, examining her from head to toe.

  They both wore vaguely military-looking clothes that wouldn’t seem out of place in a civilian environment but still provided the same protection as an issue battledress uniform. Each carried a holstered side arm, in Zack’s case, his preferred Imperial Armaments fifteen-millimeter monster.

  “What’s in your pack?”

  “Change of clothes, ammo for the blaster and the scatter gun, spare power packs, solar charger, first aid kit, ration bars, water, and water purification unit.”

  He nodded approvingly and checked that the scattergun strapped to her pack was secure. Then, he quickly listed the contents of his own pack, which mirrored Talyn’s.

  “No ale?” She asked, smiling mischievously.

  “Not even a bottle of Scotch for medicinal purposes.”

  “You are taking this seriously. I’m impressed.” She punched him lightly on the arm before picking up her pack and leading the way down to the cavern floor,
where Tran Kidder waited.

  The airlock slammed shut with finality when Decker’s feet touched the ground. They heard one last chime from the AI, its own version of a farewell, and then Phoenix went dormant, waiting for someone with the right codes to wake her.

  “Zack, I’ve meant to ask,” Kidder said, “why doesn’t your ship’s AI speak with you?”

  “Because someone programmed it to sound just like my commanding officer, and one of her aboard is more than enough.”

  “I love you too, Zack.” Talyn blew him a kiss, then walked off to join the cluster of rebels heading deeper into the cavern.

  TWENTY-ONE

  For two long hours, they walked in a single file beside the river, on a narrow gravel bank that threatened to twist unwary ankles. A few hand-held lights, scattered throughout the column, provided just enough illumination to prevent anything worse than the occasional stumble.

  Talyn and Decker, at the tail end of the group, save for a section of heavily armed rebel soldiers, wore night vision glasses, and were spared any near misses with unseen potholes.

  The river’s flow sped up when the tunnel narrowed and they were forced to wade through the cold water when the banks vanished beneath the surface. Then, moments before Zack was about to utter another pungent comment about the local tourist attractions, they caught their first glimpse of a faint glow ahead.

  Soon after that, the column emerged into a verdant canyon and was met by a small detachment of men in camouflage uniforms. The newcomers led them down a barely discernible animal track for another hour until they came within sight of the canyon’s mouth. There, another surprise awaited the two operatives.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Decker asked, examining a worn façade carved into the reddish granite.

  “If you think it’s the remains of a L’Taung era fortress, you’re probably right,” Talyn replied. “It looks similar to other sites found in this part of the galaxy.”

  “That means it could be up to a hundred thousand years old. Our ancestors were barely homo sapiens back then.” A note of awe crept into the Marine’s voice. “To think modern Shrehari are such thick-skulled sons of bitches, yet their ancestors could build something that’s lasted ten times longer than human civilization.”