“Well, we have sixty-five extra crewmembers on board that are Leethog. About half of them could fly them, if needed,” Kyla said.
Harmon had hired extra crew when he had initially filled the ships’ rosters, and many of them had experience as pilots. Salvage Title now had two hundred and fifty total beings on board that weren’t members of the Fleet, but were employees. The rest had been sent to the new ships.
“We won’t send the carrier back with the other ships, because it doesn’t have pilots for its fighters,” Harmon stated. “Distribute all the pilots we have available to the fighters on the other ships…on loan. Send the eight fighter pilots we have on board Salvage Title to be the flight leaders and instructors. We’ll go without pilots for the fighters here on Salvage Title. We have Twiggy, JoJo, me, and the brothers if we need them. Where we’re going, I doubt we will.”
“What’s the plan, man?” Clip asked.
“First, we’re going to Leethog,” Harmon answered. “The system president has given me the authority to negotiate a Defense Pact with Leethog, if they’re interested. If not, we’ll try to at least get an inter-system military training program started. We’ll send military personnel to learn there, and they’ll send some to Tretrayon. If nothing else, it’s a start toward some kind of mutual defense pact in the future.
“Second, right before we head out, we’ll put an ad out for mercenaries. There are several good companies out there. I’m not sure if any will want to get involved in a system war, but we have to try. It’s a long shot, I know,” Harmon admitted.
“Third, Jayneen, can you check the Net and see if any systems are selling warships? It doesn’t matter if they’re old. If it’s something we can adapt, I want to know about it. If they’re in really bad shape, bad enough that we can’t fight them, maybe we can turn them into defensive platforms,” Harmon said.
“I can,” Jayneen answered. “I don’t wish to add to the bad news about their allies, but the Krift have actual warships. They have a shipbuilding facility orbiting their planet.”
“Really?” Clip said. “Everything I found on them throughout the galaxy indicated a preference for Q-ships. We’re gonna need more ships.”
“Whosse credits are we ussing?” Zerith asked.
“Well, we have about eight million or so in the account,” Harmon said. “The president said there’ll be two billion credits added to get what we need.”
“Two billion? Dang, that’s a lot of zeros,” Twiggy said. Everyone in the room nodded.
“Not really, when you think about it,” Harmon told them. “A new medium cruiser costs about three hundred million credits to build. It was the credit left sitting in the defense fund for the system. It had been adding up, since it was never spent like it should have been. If we need more, there can be promissory notes, but I doubt anyone is going to give the system credit when there’s a good chance it’ll be destroyed or subjugated.”
“I know a being. I will send a message through the gate. I will see if he will meet us in the Leethog system,” Big Jon announced.
Harmon wondered who or what Big Jon was referring to. He knew Big Jon had taken leave of absences from the Leethog Marines in the past. It was probably where some of his training had occurred. Plus, his unusual strength for a Leethog had to come from somewhere.
“I know a guy…well, I know him online,” Clip said. “I know what he goes by on the Net. Everyone who’s anyone studying history knows of him, but I know who he really is. He’s known as History Man on the forums, and he knows all about old Earth history. His actual name is Van Allen Plexico. He has a Net show about warball, and he’s a writer who made a fortune. He has a research facility in the Auburn system, where he uses the credits he earns to make all kinds of cool stuff. The rumor on the net is that he has a couple of completely automated ships. Even though it isn’t AI, with that kind of guidance programming, we can create something really nasty. We should talk to him, maybe he can teach me something.”
“Alright. It looks like we have a plan. As soon as Marteen gets back, we’ll get this thing moving,” Harmon said.
* * * * *
Chapter Eight
“We got them,” Marteen said. “They were right where you said they’d be. We were able to stack three hundred into the bay of Hauler, along with pallets of the small missiles you mentioned. We just went back and forth in the mechs. I, and the five other mech pilots we hired, used up all our rocket fuel and had to refill them twice. We were bringing them over two at a time, until Brickle suggested pushing them over, and he was catching them and stacking them like logs. I know it was in zero gravity, but they have mass and momentum, ya know? He was in a work suit, grabbing, swinging, and stacking them like he’d done it his whole life. Never saw anything like it.”
“He’s a beast,” Harmon answered. “He’s done something similar. His family owns a traditional construction company on Joth. They build with block, and basically it’s just cut stone. They’re six inches by six inches and six feet long, rounded off on two sides, and weigh about two hundred and fifty pounds each. He and his brothers had to stack them, growing up. They would toss them from the ground hauler and pile them up. It’s a combination of strength and technique, letting the momentum move them for you.”
“There was a big supply depot, and four ships were being built…well, they were being built twenty-two hundred years ago. How did you know it was there?” Marteen asked.
“It had to be there, man,” Clip answered for Harmon. “Salvage Title is at least a generation ahead of the other ships. The only one close to it is the fighter carrier.”
“Well, it’s there alright. An entire military shipyard. A supply depot, building facilities, repair facilities, and a separate research station are orbiting a small moon on the other side of the planet,” Marteen said.
“I wish we had those four ships to use in this upcoming battle,” Harmon replied. “We’ll have to come back after it’s all over and see how far along they were before the virus hit. There’s nothing we can do about them now.”
Harmon turned toward the console. “Jayneen, did you get the schematics for the missiles? We want to be able to make them in the Tretrayon system.”
“I have the blueprints for the missiles on all the ships we’ve just powered up. I don’t have the newer ones that are on board this ship. Perhaps if we powered up the military shipyards, I could get to them,” the AI said.
“No, the only ones who know about the shipyards are the associates, Marteen, and the five mech pilots,” Harmon said. “They’re all trustworthy. There are still issues with some of the Tretrayons that the new government is working out. Some of them are obviously in the Fleet.”
“You know, that gives us eleven mech pilots, including yourself,” Marteen advised. “Maybe that’s something to look into. A Heavy Marine Platoon.”
“Twelve. I can operate a mech,” Zerith said.
“He can,” Clip said, nodding. “Though he makes poor decisions while in it.”
“Hey!” Zerith protested.
“Zee, you know you do. Frost! That was some crazy squat you pulled in the Nilta system,” Clip said.
“Nilta system? What did he do?” Marteen asked, as the three of them walked out of the conference room.
“It wass very excciting,” admitted Zerith, and he told his version as they headed to grab a bite.
The nine warships started through the gate. After Jayneen had hacked into each ship and changed the operation systems to Earth Common, she sent the information on all of them in a secure transmission through the net, and the Tretrayon system president himself had made sure they were all registered and could use the gates. He had learned the shortcut to registering ships from Harmon.
Jayneen had also ensured there was no evidence of the coordinates of the system in their computers. The only coordinates they had were the ones to the Tretrayon system.
* * *
On Tretra, in the Tretrayon system, miles from any city, Intelli
gence Specialist Lowantha lowered his bino-scopes, turned to the man beside him, and said, “It looks like it’s just the three of them in there.”
“Good,” his partner, Specialist Hawthorne, agreed; he sounded like he had a stuffy nose. “Those bino-scopes work pretty good—you can actually see into the building. That was a nice little bonus we picked up on the last mission to Bentwick. Ok, we get in and grab the boy just like the plan calls for.”
“Exactly, Commander Fritz says if we don’t bring back the boy, then don’t come back at all,” Lowantha said. “The team that was supposed to take Harmon out failed. We got word through contacts that some ships were registered, so they’re probably on their way back to the system now. That means Harmon Tomeral is probably still alive.”
“You really think she’ll be able to force Tomeral to endorse her for system president in the upcoming election?” Hawthorne asked Lowantha.
“I do,” Lowantha said. “It’s a good plan. We grab Evelyn Stacey’s kid brother, and Tomeral will see things our way. We put him with the old man we already snagged, lock them both in a safehouse in the middle of nowhere, and keep them there until we don’t need them anymore.
“We can put a stop to all the stupid changes that have been happening,” Lowantha continued. “Things didn’t need to change. When we stopped the invasion, a lot of good people died, but that’s not a reason to change the whole political structure in the entire system. I, for one, liked things the way they were. I mean, really, the scum from the cities on our beaches, in our parks, and using the same facilities we do? I don’t think so. The next thing you know, a Prithmar will be waist deep in the ocean, holding his kid’s hand for a picture while on vacation.”
“Yeah, well, when this is over, I get to do the old man in. You can believe that,’ Hawthorne said. He was still mad.
“Can you believe they’re letting people own weapons?” Hawthorne asked. His parents were out of a job because they worked for a middle house representative and had for years. The person appointed in that temporary position had decided to clean house, so to speak, and let them go. Hawthorne had always been one to skirt fleet regulations, so a little kidnapping was fine with him.
“And can you imagine how the vote will go to fill all the vacancies in the special election if we don’t do something about it?” Lowantha asked his friend. “They’ll think they actually have a say.”
“Well, there are enough of us in key positions fighting these changes; we’ll put a stop to it,” Hawthorne agreed through his stuffy nose. “Even if we have to bury a few people to get our point across.”
“I really like the part of the plan where we let Tomeral and his flunkies protect the system again, even though he knows things aren’t going to change,” Lowantha said. “As soon as it’s all over, you can bet Fritz will have him locked away somewhere, and people will forget about him and those freaks that run around his stupid ship.”
* * *
In the Grithelaon system, Salvage Title and the newly acquired medium fighter carrier, Windswept, headed to the gate. After the missiles had all been reloaded, including the defensive missiles, they were ready to go to the Leethog system. Hank and Stan had a great time walking around the outside of Salvage Title in suits with a repair crew, making sure the defensive missile racks were reloaded correctly.
Hauler was locked down in the bay of Salvage Title so Zerith, Brickle, the brothers Hank and Stan, and several crewmembers from engineering could work on it. Harmon wanted some upgrades made to her, and they worked long hours getting them complete.
The trip through alter reality took nine days. The carrier needed a crew of eighty, not counting flight control, maintenance, and pilots. Assigning them to it put Salvage Title at about the same number as they had left the Leethog system with before the battle in the Tretrayon system. The Leethog on board the carrier had already opened, taken apart, and repaired all of the systems on the ship. The Human, Caldivar, Prithmar, and Pikith crewmembers were right there with them on a crash course to learn the inner workings of the carrier. Harmon hoped to pick up a hundred or so pilots, some fighter mechanics, and some deck crew members to round out the crew. If any would volunteer, that is.
While Big Jon ran his beings through repair drills on Salvage Title, Gunny was doing the same thing on the carrier. He had been in charge of Marines for most of his career, and he had performed some of the repair drills in combat. Now he was responsible for security on the carrier and the emergency repair crews. He had a mix of crew members, and he liked the diversity.
His second in command was a Pikith named Clyde. Like all Pikith, Clyde was the height of an average human male. His facial features were much like a human’s, but his skin was a light purple hue, and his shoulder-length straight white hair covered the fact that his race did not have protruding ears. He was muscular, yet compact, weighing one hundred and eighty pounds. Also, like most of his race, he was fast. Ridiculously fast. Harmon had fought him in tournaments as a teenager on Joth. Harmon had always beaten him, but he had a healthy respect for Clyde’s jab. The Pikith race went by just one name, and Clyde was no different. Clyde had gained the rank of sergeant in the Joth Militia, and Harmon insisted he keep it working for Tomeral and Associates.
Harmon hadn’t decided who was going to command the carrier yet. He had an idea, but was holding it close until he was sure. Temporarily, he had Evelyn in the position. Twiggy was onboard in flight ops, even though there were no pilots, and JoJo was acting as its executive officer. Twiggy and JoJo had both parked their Zax fighters in its first bay before leaving the system.
Aleethra was now in charge of the power plant on the carrier. Like Salvage Title, Windswept had four fusion plants and four engines, although the ship only had four pulse cannons and four missile launchers for armament. It did have an extensive amount of defensive lasers, and over one hundred defensive missile launchers. The shields on the carrier were far more powerful than the ones on Salvage Title, and Clip and Jayneen had tweaked them using his program to improve the oscillating patterns and had made them even stronger.
The carrier had three flight decks on the port side, so the shields needed to be strong because of the lack of armor. On each flight deck was a small tracked tank. The tank was a single individual crew tank with a short barrel. It was designed to roll to the open bay door on its magnetic tracks, locking it into place. It was armed with the same missiles the fighters used. It had an auto loader inside and could hold ten of them before it needed to be reloaded. They would be a nasty surprise for any ship that decided to approach and land in the bays. When it wasn’t being used for defense, it was also used to move the fighters around when they weren’t under power.
Harmon sat in the commander’s seat on the bridge of Salvage Title and watched the members of the operations crew go about their work. By now they were like a well-oiled machine. Bahroot stood to the side, trying to stay out of the way. He was a big being, but he managed it pretty well. While Big Jon was training the safety crews, he liked to keep a member on the bridge for security. He preferred it to be his second in command, Corporal Bahroot. The previous sergeant in that position had not survived the battle in Tretra’s capitol.
The staff sergeant knew Harmon could handle himself just fine, but he didn’t think a ship’s captain should have to fight anyone on his own bridge. So far, there had been no more issues with fleet members who had come with them to retrieve the ships, but the staff sergeant refused to take chances.
* * * * *
Chapter Nine
Orbiting the planet Squill in the Squilla system, the huge dreadnought The Mound stood out from the other three ships near it. It was a Krift ship, decidedly different from the Squilla ships. The three Squilla ships didn’t quite have The Mound surrounded, but they could move into that position very quickly if ordered to do so.
On the bridge of The Mound, the ship’s second, Kalill, paced back and forth behind the weapons drone and the tactical drone. The two Krith drones tried not
to glance back at the soon-to-be queen and kept to their tasks. She had been in the second position on this ship for a little over a year, and it would not be long before she was queen of her own ship in the Queen’s Fleet. There were two heavy battlecruisers being built in the system shipyards back in the Krith system. Because of her experience as second on the flagship, she would take command of a heavy, and not one of the smaller ships in the fleet. She had worked hard to be in this position and would not let anything keep her from reaching her goal.
She did not like the fact that their ship was in this vulnerable position. The ship’s queen, Vermell, had taken a shuttle with very little security to the planet’s surface to meet King C’Rabi and make the pact official. Kalill had ordered the pilots to be in all forty of the dreadnought’s fighter craft, just in case.
Only one ship had made the trip to this system so their mutual enemy, the Tretrayons, would not know of the meeting. All traffic to the system was being diverted to a large spaceport, hours away and well out of observation range by anything but military grade sensors, until the meeting was complete, and the Krift left the system.
* * *
“Your Majesty,” Vermell said, as she gave a slight bow. She was a queen, but she was only the queen of the Krift Fleet, she wasn’t the queen. The Queen of Krift. The bow was an acknowledgement to one that held a higher status than she did. It wasn’t as low as the one the king’s subjects gave him, but it was at least an acknowledgement.
Salvage Fleet Page 4
