ARMS Helm's End: (Book 7)

by Stephen Arseneault

  The bay doors opened and the Grindle slipped out through the gravity wall that held back the waters beyond. Two fireballs were soon streaking up through the atmosphere. Twenty minutes later, the ships slowed as they approached Domicile. Four Banshees raced out to meet them. Bax was nowhere to be seen.

  The Grindle went in first, knocking out two Banshees before their railgun weapons were in range. The third and fourth exchanged rounds, heavily damaging the Burrell ship, but not before the fighters were burned through.

  A comm came in from the surface. "This is Grand Governor Massey. You will desist and turn yourselves over for arrest and trial."

  Tawn chuckled. "Sorry, boss. Your term has expired, along with the Maxter Empire. Where would we find your niece?"

  "She went to New Earth to retrieve processor cores for the new Banshees."

  A blip showed on the nav display followed by a comm opening. "Goober, how'd you morons get here? And what's that ship? Is that Burrell?"

  "Your time at the great card table is over, Red. Fold now and we might just let you live."

  "And why would I do that? I still have a strong hand."

  She gave them a grin before the Fargo turned. A wormhole opened and the elusive Baxter Rumford slipped through.

  Tawn asked, "Did you get where she went?"

  "Sensor says Gondol."

  Tawn grabbed the controls. "Well, let's get her! She's not getting away this time!"

  The run was made out to free space, taking an excruciatingly long nine minutes. A jump to Gondol followed.

  Tawn looked over the Burrell nav display. "You see her?"

  Harris returned a half scowl. "She must have the interference signal running. We'll have to go in for a visual."

  Five minutes into the foray, Tawn slapped her forehead. "Morons!"

  "What?"

  "She's not here. She's at new Earth, gathering her bots!"

  A hard turn had the Grindle heading back to free space. A jump to New Earth followed.

  Tawn huffed. "Nothing."

  "Let’s take her in for a visual. We should at least see the transports if they're still here."

  Tawn shook her head. "We really botched this up."

  "My fault for not securing her when I had the chance. I bolted off down the hall with the colonel."

  "We needed Croft too."

  "Yeah, but Croft was an idiot. If he'd had any wit he'd have run as soon as the fighting started. Bax was for sure a flight risk. I watched her type the Fargo's transponder into the defense system there at the Retreat. I guess that makes me an idiot too."

  "Two minutes to orbit. We should know then."

  Harris sighed. "If she's gone, we have to find her."

  "If Morgan can keep those production lines running, at least Domicile will be safe. And we can keep searching for Bax. She has to set down somewhere if she wants to build ships. And she needs ships if she wants to take us on again. We'll find her."

  "Visuals coming in... and... nothing. Transports are gone."

  Tawn growled and slammed her fist on the console. "How could we be so stupid?"

  A wormhole opened and the Bangor came through.

  Gandy said, "You need help? She here?"

  Tawn jumped on the comm: "You have any indication of the interference signal?"

  "One sec. Yes! I have it heading toward free space!"

  Harris sat up. "Can you reach her before she jumps?"

  Gandy slowly shook his head. "Not a chance."

  A comm came in on the general channel.

  A smug Baxter Rumford graced the display. "You two just can't finish the job, can you?"

  Tawn leaned in. "Oh, we will. You can jump but you can't hide. We'll sniff you out and... wham! The nightmare of Bax will be over."

  "You tell a great story, Freely. Ever think of taking it on stage?"

  Harris said, "End it now, Red. It‘d be best for us all. I can still get you isolated exile."

  Baxter Rumford smirked as a wormhole opened. "The only thing ending now is this conversation. Sorry losers. Ta ta."

  The interference signal disappeared as the wormhole closed.

  Tawn asked, "You get a heading for that jump?"

  Gandy shook his head. "Not with that signal running. And too far for a visual. She's gone."

  Tawn stared at the empty display for several seconds.

  Harris patted her shoulder. "She'll show up again. And when she does, she's ours. Let's go. We have a lot of work to do.

  ~~~~~

  — What's Next? —

  * * *

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  (Flip the page!)

  ARMS

  (Vol. 8)

  For Eternity

  — Chapter 8.1 —

  * * *

  A week later, the Bangor landed on Domicile. A short walk had Tawn and Harris sitting in Bannis Morgan's office.

  "You two just keep pulling out the wins."

  Harris chuckled. "Don't know if I would call it that. Technically, this all came about because of us. Those were our bots and our captured ships."

  Tawn frowned. "And we let Bax slip away again."

  "But you did get Croft. His grand plans have been permanently halted. For the first time in our history we can now all function as a single government. There are no more Earther worlds and no more truce worlds."

  "Have the governors of those agreed?" Harris asked.

  "They have. Delegations from each are meeting in the capital as we speak. Have you been back to the Retreat?"

  "Not since the fight. We've commed the colonel several times though. He says things are getting back to normal."

  "Did he offer casualty numbers."

  "He did. There are only forty-one hundred of us left."

  "Time and again you've been the difference between a free Domicile and us all being someone's property. We can't thank all of you enough for your sacrifices."

  Tawn said, "We appreciate that, Mr. Morgan. And we appreciate all that you, the Bolemans, Sharvie, and countless other regulars have sacrificed. We benefit from this freedom just like you."

  Bannis smiled. "Always the team players. When will our first shipment of processor cores arrive?"

  "Fifty-eight hundred of them, tomorrow."

  "Excellent. I have three hundred ships at the ready with an equal number coming off the line in three days. By the end of next month we should be rolling out five thousand per month. In another two months that number doubles and then two months after it will double again. The President has ordered a first run of two hundred fifty thousand units. A formidable force."

  "That's great," Tawn said. "What's our timeframe for those?"

  "Just over a year."

  "Can we assume they'll be ordering gamma missiles as well?"

  "All you can produce. And this time they want your new laser warheads too. If we can make it that full year without an invasion, we should be set from then on."

  Harris chuckled. "Maybe you'll finally get to retire."

  "Retirement is for those who have no goals, ambitions, or future. So long as my mind is sharp and my body able, I'll choose to be productive."

  "Always with the work. Just be sure to take a break now and again. Humanity still needs leaders like you."

  Bannis called in an aide: "Carl, have the Bolemans and associates settled into their new offices?"

  "They have, sir. The team assigned to them is bringing them up to speed."

  Bannis
turned back. "My son, Grigg, will be coming in to take over the Banshee production personally. I'll be transferring my efforts to the research labs. That's where our friends are being placed."

  Harris nodded. "I'm sure they'll love it there."

  "I've tried repeatedly to bring Dr. Gaerten into the fold, but he insists on staying at Midelon. I was hoping to one day turn that entire research division over to him."

  "He's happy where he is. I think the work he's doing with those bots is needed. We don't want them to one day go rogue on us. He has several updates for their programming he believes will prevent that. Once those are in, he wants to work on the hardware side to see what he can permanently restrict there."

  A comm came in from President Armstrong. "Bannis, they there?"

  "Sitting right here, sir."

  "Good. Freely, Gruberg, I wanted your input on the Burrell out at Gondol."

  Harris leaned forward. "Has something happened?"

  "No, their repairs at that facility are finishing up. We're trying to determine what to do with them aside from just dropping in food."

  "How many are we talking about?"

  "Sixteen. So it's not a large crowd we have to deal with. And even though the Burrell are technically at war with us, these are civilian prisoners who I would one day like to see returned to their homes."

  "You aren't talking about a trip to Burrell space, are you?"

  "No. Not anytime soon. But we still have the issue of what do we do with these sixteen."

  Tawn said, "Mr. president, we may have a solution."

  Harris turned to face her. "We do?"

  "The stasis pods on the Grindle. Sixteen will fit nicely until they can be repatriated. We won't even have to feed them."

  Armstrong asked, "Is that possible?"

  "It should be, sir. We brought one out of stasis and put him back in later. There are another seventeen pods on that ship. So long as they're functional, we could make use of them."

  "I like this suggestion, Miss Freely. Will you take this on as a task to evaluate our options?"

  "I will. I can have an answer for you after we get back."

  The President nodded in approval. "Excellent. Someday I hope to hear the story of the Grindle and how you came by her."

  "For now, sir, we'd prefer to keep the secrets of Midelon just that, secrets."

  "Understood. You won't have any interference from my administration... or this Congress for that matter. I have one other matter before I go. I'm certain you're aware of the celebration coming up in a week. This will be a colony-wide event, and we'll be broadcasting from the presidential estate. I'd like the two of you to be there."

  Tawn returned a half frown. "Slugs don't make the best of speakers, sir."

  "Nonsense. Don't worry about what to say. I'll have my staff write something for you. You can keep it short if you so desire. But the people would like to hear from the heroes of humanity."

  Harris chuckled. "Heroes of Humanity."

  "Something wrong or funny about that?"

  Harris straightened up. "No, sir, just sounds like we're comic book or movie characters. The Heroes of Humanity... saving us all from the dangers of the stars."

  Tawn said, "Don't mind him, sir. He's an idiot."

  The President stared for several seconds before turning to an aide. "Heroes of Humanity. Take that down. See what the team can do with that. Sorry, Mr. Gruberg, but this celebration is as much about restoring pride and confidence in our government as it is about celebrating our victory. We may push this hero angle a bit harder than you like, but it's a public relations opportunity we can't afford to pass up."

  "If it gets the masses to come together, why would I stand in its way, sir?"

  "Good. I think we're on the same page here. I'll see you two in a week. Mr. Morgan, I'll see you at tomorrow's briefing."

  The comm closed.

  Harris looked up. "You kind of ambushed us with that one."

  Bannis smiled. "I knew the two of you would bristle at the thought of being part of a grand celebration. So there it is, one week from today you'll be paraded in front of everyone. Hope you don't have stage-fright."

  "Trained out of us long ago, Mr. Morgan. We may not fear it, but we don't like it either. I'll be opting for the short speech myself."

  Tawn stood. "We should get back to check on the Grindle and those pods."

  A short while later, the Bangor landed on the grass outside the lab where Alexander Gaerten was hard at work.

  Harris came in the lab first. "Alex, how's production looking?"

  "Production is running along perfectly. The androids are overseeing every aspect, which leaves me here to deal with my studies. I believe I've found a way to speed their reaction times while in a fight, but I hesitate to implement the programming changes for fear of you losing your edge."

  "Uh, yeah, I'd prefer you leave that one out. That short hesitation on their part is something I count on. We lose that and we'll lose our ability to defeat them. Let's tuck that update away into a deep dark void and leave it there."

  "Consider it done. Are you set for next week's celebration?"

  "We are now," said Tawn. "The President cornered us into giving a live speech. Neither of us are thrilled with it, but we'll do what's asked of us."

  "The rest of the population needs their heroes, Miss Freely. You and Gruberg qualify. Take the inclusion in this event as a recognition of all the sacrifices the Biomarines have made for our freedom. You've stated that you were trained not to seek praise, but you weren't trained to not accept it when freely given. So take your moment in front of the cameras as a salutation to all slugs and stumps."

  The week before the celebration passed quickly. Tawn and Harris landed in the capital city on a special tarmac that serviced the presidential estate. A small army of guards escorted the duo into a wing of the estate and then guided each of them to a separate dressing room.

  Military dress uniforms had been pulled and adorned with numerous medals, half of which had just been issued by the President during the prior week. Tailors accompanied them as they dressed in order to make final tweaks to their uniforms before being presented to the public.

  Harris was the first out into the hallway, with Tawn emerging less than a minute later.

  Harris nodded. "You clean up good for a Marine."

  "Kind of feel like a show-dog right now. All these colors on my chest are excessive."

  "You earned them all, Freely. The public needs to see us in all our glory."

  "These six were earned. These six are PR."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because they were awarded to us for deeds done when we weren't even active service."

  "Irrelevant given the circumstances. They do look good on there."

  "You think?"

  Harris chuckled. "Yep. Anything that distracts from that slug face."

  "Keep it up and you’re gonna get a face slug."

  An aide led them down a hall to an elevator. The elevator dropped fifteen stories before an underground shuttle arrived to whisk them away to the main house. Another elevator ride up had them in the President's residence. An aide guided them into a room where Armstrong was standing, looking out a window.

  "Comm wormholes are open to every colony feed," the President stated before turning around. "Look out at the crowd. The lawn and thoroughfare are crammed with bodies going five kilometers back."

  "We're speaking in front of them?" Harris asked.

  "Relax. You won't find a hostile crowd out there. Even Croft's pacifists are out there in numbers, feeling betrayed by their one-time leader. Given the fight that happened between the automated force and the Burrell, even though we lost our entire fleet, those same pacifists are grateful the sacrifices were made on their behalf."

  Tawn pointed between them. "We're not nervous, sir, just not much for public speaking."

  "You've practiced the short speeches we had written for you?"

  Tawn nodded. "Have it lo
cked away in memory, sir."

  Harris gave a wry smile. "I may have made a few tweaks to mine."

  Tawn sighed. "You aren't going to embarrass us, are you?"

  "Maybe. But it's my speech. I can say what I want."

  Armstrong patted him on the shoulder. "Whatever you have, I'm certain it will be fine. Now come with me. There's a long line of politicians looking to glad-hand with you. And they all have their press teams waiting to get that 'I support the Biomarines' shot."

  As they walked, Tawn quietly asked, "You aren't planning some big stupid joke are you?"

  "Maybe. You have a problem with that?"

  "Given your comedy track record? Yes. I think I'm going to insist on going first."

  "Fine by me. Just means your speech will be forgotten."

  Tawn tilted her head to one side in thought. "Hmm. I guess I really don't care. Go ahead and say whatever you want to say. Just don't take your shirt off or something stupid like that."

  "Couldn't do that. The ladies would be rushing the stage."

  "Throwing rotten fruit maybe."

  "If it sets your mind at ease, it's not a joke. It's a patriotic speech."

  "You planning to inspire the crowds?"

  "Actually, I am. We need to pull together as a people and build a fleet as fast as we can. I hate to say Bax was right, but the Frizoid or Burrell could show at any time. And what do we have to defend ourselves?"

  "Bannis seems to think we're ramping up nicely."

  "Bannis has a long view. I have an immediate view. I'd like to see fifty thousand ships commissioned next week, not the end of this year."

  "We're at risk, true, but things are moving. And what intel we have points to both species being occupied."

  Harris let out a huff. "Intel? That's 100 percent guesswork. Until we have specific, on-the-ground intel from inside either of those empires, all we have are guesses."

  "We can't build ships faster than we can."

  "There's always room to improve. And who's to say the last hundred ships we produce aren't the ones that would win us a final victory?"

  "Now who's guessing?"

  The group rounded a corner only to enter a grand ballroom. Close to two hundred politicians and dignitaries stretched out in a line that ran the perimeter of the room.