Renegades (Expeditionary Force Book 7)

by Craig Alanson

  “Heard and understood, Colonel Bishop,” Adams replied, as in the background I could hear multiple people hissing at her. They were not too happy that she referred to me as ‘Colonel’ instead of ‘Staff Sergeant’. E-6 was a higher grade than I ever expected to attain and I was proud that my regular Army rank was staff sergeant. After the mutiny I was committing, or attempting to commit, a bump up to E-7 was likely not in my future.

  Mercifully, the conversation did not drag on much longer. Either Adams had reached the end of the script her superiors wanted her to read, or the knuckleheads down there decided to fall back and regroup, because she abruptly told me she would call me again later, because the call ended. “Skippy,” I looked at the ceiling automatically, “is Adams OK?”

  “As far as I can tell, Joe,” he admitted. “The monkeys down there are getting smarter, they had her calling through an old-fashioned landline, on an analog phone if you can believe it. How they found one of those ancient black Bakelite phones is amazing, they must have taken it out of a World War Two museum.”

  “Analog?” The word sounded wrong in my mouth.

  “Yup. Like, a rotary dial, if you have any idea what that means.”

  I did know where the expression ‘dial’ a phone came from, and I had seen pictures of old phones like that, but had never used one. “Ha!” The thought made me laugh. “The great Skippy the Magnificent was defeated by technology too crude for you to hack?”

  “What?” He screeched with indignation. “Dude, please. As if! It was actually an interesting and even amusing exercise to hack into that analog phone, well, interesting for the one point two seconds it took for me to analyze the carrier wave and create a model of the phone’s electric guts. Then I was able to use vibrating ions in the air to- Ah, why am I bothering to tell you this technical stuff? If you like, I can tell you which five people were in the room with Adams, and I was also able to monitor their heart rates and respiration so I know four of the five were quite nervous. The fifth person thinks Adams should be aboard the Dutchman with us.”

  “Wait. Whoa! You know what the person was thinking?”

  “No, dumdum,” he laughed. “Damn, you are gullible. I listened to that person talking with another officer three days ago, and the two of them agreed the government is foolish for thinking that surrendering to aliens is a good idea. Joe, you have a lot of support down there in Monkeyland.”

  “Yeah, unfortunately that doesn’t do me much good right now, because the people making decisions are all against me. Hey, since you know about heart rates and all that, how is Adams doing?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say she is a combination of pissed off and amused.”

  “Uh huh, that’s what I got from the tone of her voice. Shit. Any chance we could sneak her out of there?”

  “Not that I can see, Joe, but you are responsible for creative thinking around here. By tracing the phone wiring, I can tell she is being held underground, in a secure facility.”

  “Ah, crap, that’s not going to happen, then. All right, Skippy, we got a lot of work to do.”

  All that day, Adams not being aboard the Flying Dutchman was at the back of my mind. Without thinking, I would turn to speak with her, or I started mentally assigning tasks to her, before remembering she was not with us. It was an especially busy day so I was still working at 0116 when my zPhone beeped. It was Adams.

  “Skippy says we are clear to talk,” she announced simply, as if it were an ordinary day.

  “It’s true, Joe,” the beer can chimed in. “Margaret is in the bathroom of her quarters, I am spoofing the listening devices installed there. Sergeant-”

  “Gunnery Sergeant,” I corrected him before she could speak.

  “How about just I just call her ‘Margaret’?” Skippy sighed. “You need to speak very quietly and keep the conversation short, there are three Marine Corps security personnel in the room next to hers.”

  “That’s why I have the sink running,” she explained. She must have been speaking barely above a whisper, with Skippy boosting the sound for me, because her voice was distorted. “Sir, is everything all right up there?”

  “Situation normal up here, Gunny,” I tried to joke.

  “That bad, huh? Sir, I don’t think,” her voice broke and it wasn’t audio distortion. “I don’t think I will be coming with you this time.”

  “Don’t say that!” I said, as I tried and failed to think of a way to get Adams aboard the Flying Dutchman. We couldn’t go on a mission without her. Could we? No, we couldn’t. There must be a way to get the idiots on Earth to release her. “We’ve got a dozen nukes up here,” I said to myself, except my stupid mouth forgot the ‘to myself’ part and said it out loud.

  Adams gasped. “That had better be a joke.”

  “It was!” I assured her. “Sorry, it’s one of those things you think but don’t say. My mouth didn’t get the memo. Listen, Adams, is there any way you can get to an isolated part of the base? We can have a dropship-”

  “Forget about it, Sir. They are watching me, like… like a dog watching its owner eat steak. No way can I get anywhere alone. Do not think of a raid down here to pick me up. The people on the base are Marines. They may be wrong-headed about this, but they are my people. I won’t risk anyone getting hurt or killed for me.”

  “How are,” that time I checked my mouth before it said anything stupid. “Gunny, I can’t imagine the Merry Band of Pirates without you.”

  “I can’t either. All the people dirtside while we were flying around that galaxy, wondering when or if we were ever coming back, now I’ll know what they went through,” her voice faded away.

  What the hell could I say? I knew what I wanted to say, and as I was in my office, speaking over the ultra-secure Skippytel network, I could be sure only two people and one beer can would hear us. “Adams, listen, I, uh, I need to say-”

  “No, you really don’t.”

  Hearing her say that hurt. A lot.

  Then she added “There are things I need to say, and I’m going not to say them either. If you know what I mean.”

  For a moment, I did not trust myself to speak.

  “Sir?”

  “Sorry, Mar- Gunny. Sorry, Gunny. Skippy says I suck at talking anyway. You, uh, have any advice for us?”

  “Not that I can think of,” she admitted, unprepared for my question. “I’m sure you will think of something.”

  “Oh,” I groaned. “Wish I had your confidence. This time, it really, truly may be impossible. Two Maxolhx warships? How can we-”

  “You will think of something, because as Skippy would say, you kind of have to. Sir.”

  “I heard that loud and clear, Adams.”

  “Colonel, I have only one request.”

  Before I could reply, I had to hold the phone against my chest so she couldn’t hear a choking sound escape my lips. Then I had to wipe tears away with my sleeve. It was an emotional time for both of us, so if anybody thinks I was getting soft then, hey, screw you. A deep breath restored my ability to speak. “What’s that, Gunny?”

  “You monkeys kick ass out there, got that?”

  “Got it.”

  There was a pause, then “Colonel, I lied. There is something else I want.”

  “A snowglobe from the Maxolhx gift shop?”

  That made her laugh, louder than she should have given the circumstances, and it was my fault. “No, although that would be great too. You come back safely. You, the beer can, Smythe, Simms, all of you. Especially you, Sir. Please.”

  “I’ll do my best, Adams.”

  “Your best is all I can ask.” There were sounds in the background. “I have to go. Vaya con Dios, Joe.” And the line went dead.

  Joe. She called me Joe. She had never done that before. “Skippy, what’s happening down there?”

  “The security people got suspicious when she left the sink running too long, they were monitoring an analog water meter that I couldn’t hack into, duh. I told you to keep it s
hort.”

  “That’s easier to say than do, shithead,” I snapped at him. “Ah, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it’s not your fault. You did great. I hope she will be Ok.”

  “She may get in trouble for using an unauthorized communications device, but Margaret can take care of herself. There is only one thing you can do for her.”

  “What’s that?” I asked hopefully.

  “Save the world. Again.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Because I had not visited Skippy since I came aboard again, I stopped by his escape pod mancave. The new one, not his original escape pod that was now tiny pieces in orbit. “Hey, Skippy,” I announced as I stuck my head through the too-small hatchway. “How are- Uh, what is that?”

  Somehow, he had decorated the place in my absence.

  “It’s a Velvis, Joe. Classy, huh?”

  “A Velvis?”

  “Oh,” he sighed disgustedly. “You are such an uncultured cretin, Joe. It is a painting of Elvis on velvet.”

  “I know what a Velvis is, Skippy. My grandmother has one above her fireplace, or she did. And, oh, I see you have the classic ‘Dogs Playing Poker’ too.”

  “Technically, the version I got is titled ‘A Friend in Need’. See? The dog in the foreground is using his back paw to give a card to a friend. That is so touching. Plus, it’s cheating, and you know I am all about cheating.”

  “Yeah, I see that.” I got on my knees to look more closely. That was a version of the ‘dogs playing poker’ series that I had not seen before.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” The beer can chuckled. “I see something new every time I look at it,” he added wistfully.

  “It is cool,” I agreed. “Damn, I should have brought something up here for my cabin. I don’t even have a photo of my family.” I looked closer at the dogs. “Hey, this is a real painting, not a print.”

  “Of course, Joe. I wanted to class the place up a bit. Only the best for me, you know.”

  “Mm hmm. This isn’t, uh, the original painting, is it?”

  “If it was, would that be a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “Depends. If you stole it, or stole the money to buy it, that would decidedly be a bad thing.”

  “Oh. Well, heh heh, don’t you worry. That is, um, a copy I had made.”

  “Really?”

  “Let’s pretend you believe me and move on. Anywho,” he was anxious to change the subject, “what brings you to my bodacious domicile?”

  “What happened? You told me your escape pod got vaporized by a maser cannon.”

  “My original mancave got ejected and blown up, Joe. Fortunately, after Count Chocula warned me what the UN planned to do, I took a closer look at the dropship flying up from Fort Bragg. The flightcrew disconnected the internal cameras and microphones, but I knew there was an assault team aboard that Dragon.”

  “How did you know that?” Skippy was often reluctant to reveal the secret behind his amazing abilities, and I was curious.

  “When the pilots of that Dragon spoke to the duty officer aboard the Dutchman, I could hear seven other people breathing in the background. Duh.”

  “Aha,” I nodded smugly. “Those Delta guys got sloppy. They should have buttoned up their faceplates, gone on internal oxygen to prevent you from hearing them.”

  “That would not have worked, Mr. Smartypants. As you should know, when Kristang suits are sealed but being operated in a breathable-air environment, they conserve internal oxygen by extracting and filtering oxygen from the atmosphere. The fans pulling the air across the filters make a distinctive whining noise.”

  “Ok, but, uh, you would not have known there were seven of them.”

  “Wrong again, Oh Foolish One. Joe, the next time you seek to question my extreme awesomeness, do yourself a favor and get a clue what you are talking about. I was able to identify seven people in the main cabin because there were seven different breathing patterns. If their suits had been sealed, I would have heard seven suit intake fans, each of which is very distinct if you know what to listen for. Now, will you continue interrupting me with stupid questions, or can I continue the tale of how my mancave got blown up?”

  “Skippy, it is by asking questions that I learn a lot. I had no idea your hearing was so good. I apologize, please continue.”

  “Hmmmf,” he sniffed. “Anywho, when I realized the crew of that Dragon were up to some sort of whacky shenanigans-”

  Only the beer can would describe an attempt by armor-suited elite troops to seize control of the ship as ‘whacky shenanigans’. “Skippy, you need to take this kind of thing seriously.”

  “I did take it seriously, at least, as much as I could, considering the whole thing was like watching monkeys in a circus. Hee hee, the Delta Force should wear funny little hats on their helmets, and big floppy clown shoes.”

  “It does not sound like you took it seriously.”

  “Come on, Joe, they had no chance of succeeding. Zero. Well, not zero exactly, but, hey, pretty close to it. Their assault plan had no imagination, it barely entertained me at all. They should ask you to plan their next op.”

  “Because I would think up some creative, off-the-wall genius idea that might succeed?”

  “Oh. I meant because watching you try to plan an action against me would be freakin’ hilarious. But let’s go with the creative genius thing if you like. Anywho, when I realized there was a Delta team aboard that Dragon, I took a closer look at the people aboard this ship, and saw several of CIC crew had elevated heart rates and other signs of nervous tension. At that point, I asked Lauren Poole to visit me. She moved me into a storage locker, and replaced me in the escape pod with a decoy beer can.”

  “You had a decoy? When did you make that?”

  “Oh, um, during our second mission, while you were on Newark and I was rebuilding the ship. My machines were cranking out a lot of parts back then and I figured, why not make a decoy?”

  “Why would you need a decoy, before today?”

  “Because, if you remember, some idiot named Joe Bishop picked me up and tried to send me away aboard our old frigate the Flower, when we were ambushed and trapped by a squadron of Thuranin destroyers.”

  “I did that to save you!”

  “No, you did that because you were too stupid to think of a plan that would actually work. Joe, what matters is I had a decoy available, so Poole put it in a locker and nobody knew the difference. The CIC crew ejected the empty escape pod with the decoy and destroyed it. Then I went quiet for a while, so they would think they succeeded.”

  “That was a hell of a risk, Skippy. Why didn’t you just take remote control of that Dragon and send the Delta team back down to Fort Bragg, or, like, land them someplace in the middle of nowhere so they couldn’t cause trouble?”

  “Because, Joe,” he used that voice of infinite patience people use when talking with small children, “I needed to buy time to make sure I had full awareness of the situation. Even for my incredible awesomeness, that took ten minutes in meatsack time, it was kind of tense for me. Plus, I wanted the assault team to think they were succeeding, because that prevented them from launching an even dumber plan that could have gotten innocent little monkeys killed. And, it gave me an opportunity to position assets, like the dropship I used to get you off the surface.”

  “Oh. Damn, Skippy, that was really smart.”

  “What? Of course it was smart. It’s me, Joe. Duh.”

  “I meant, that was smart in the monkey-brain sort of thinking that you are usually not good at, you arrogant shithead.”

  “Arrogant shithead? This is how you offer praise?”

  “It’s how I offer praise to you.”

  “Oh. Good point. Well,” he sighed, “since we’re having kind of a moment here, I must confess there is another reason I allowed the assault team to think they had killed or disabled me.”

  “Uh,” that puzzled me so I thought for a moment. Then I snapped my fingers. “I know. You wanted to know what UN
EF Command planned to do after they seized control of the ship?”

  “Hmmm, that would have been a good idea. I should have thought of that.”

  “Then what was your reason?”

  “It was a golden opportunity to screw with monkeys, Joe!” he laughed. “No way could I miss that! Hee hee, you should have seen the faces of the CIC crew when Poole walked in the doorway. I had been feeding false images to the CIC, they thought the Delta team was leisurely clearing compartments on their way forward. It was truly-”

  “Dangerous.”

  “No, it was hilarious.”

  “You put people in danger so you could amuse yourself.”

  “Yes, duh. Of course I- Uh, unless doing that was a bad thing. In that case, um, I did it for all those legitimate reasons you mentioned.”

  “Oh boy.” Crap, with Skippy you had to take what you could get and live with the results. If we monkeys did not amuse him, he might find another species to screw with. “No harm done, I guess. It pisses me off that UNEF Command took an action they thought might damage or kill you.” What really pissed me off was not just that the idiots in charge of the operation had decided to test whether Skippy was truly as invincible as he said. What if they had succeeded? Humanity would have one broken-down starship and an Elder wormhole controller module that could be used only one time. The idea that UNEF Command would take such a gigantic risk made up my mind about something.

  Before, when talking with Simms, I had questioned whether I had the right to substitute my judgment for that of the UN Security Council which represented most of Earth’s military and economic power. Talking with Adams, knowing she would not be coming with us, had me depressed, then angry. After learning what a bunch of reckless fuck-ups were running UNEF Command, I was no longer questioning my own decision-making ability. Did I have the right to substitute my very experienced judgment for that of my dirtside superior officers? Answer: HELL yes! Getting carefully up from the couch, I stuck my feet through the open hatch, having learned that going backwards was the best way to exit a Thuranin escape pod. “Thank you, Skippy.”