Libor: Katana Krieger #2

by Bill Robinson

  We're on the line, then it blinks red, only a flash, only for a split second. Long enough to kill us. We're green, then we're yellow, I don't even know what that means, Maria didn't tell me there was yellow. Then it's green.

  Nobody breathes for the last 30 seconds, you can see their bodies clenched into the couches. It flashes red, then back to green twice more. Then the clock hits zero.

  Chapter 28

  In the end, it was anticlimactic. Yorktown reached the jump point, and we were instantly at the transfer point in the unnamed system.

  "Outstanding work, Maria. RISTA, full scan, passive only."

  "Scanning, aye." McAdams, all business.

  I don't expect there to be anything, in an uninhabited star system in the middle of nowhere, but once again I am surprised.

  "Energy signature, debris field, 210 mark 000, 138,000 kilometers, moving at 500 kph."

  "Mr. Garcia, cancel jump, set course to target."

  "Aye, course to target."

  "Mr. McAdams, what is it?" I have her screen on mine, I get the picture, but I need her to say it.

  "Something small, probably destroyed not far from our present location, the debris is drifting."

  "Truxton?" My estimate, the debris is corvette sized, and she's been missing the right length of time.

  Courtney's irritated, I'd guess mad at herself for not remembering the last transmission from Summerlin.

  "Aye, Skipper, debris volume and energy signature consistent with the destruction of a corvette."

  "Agreed. A 42 inch laser?"

  "No visible energy signatures, it's been too long. We'll have to examine the debris itself."

  "Aye." I look at the nav screen, see what Maria has plotted. "Mr. Garcia, course approved, let's roll."

  "Roger, proceeding."

  I warn Palmer to be ready as soon as we arrive to take a squad in the assault boat to gather evidence. If it is Truxton, no one back home knows the Senator was kidnapped, or anyone else for that matter, we'd need to act.

  It takes us an hour and a half to get there, the whole time spent searching for the enemy and not finding any trace. Our telescopes isolate two large pieces of debris on the way in, no question it's a corvette, and likely our missing comrades.

  I stay aboard, make Shelby happy, and watch as a squad of Marines execute a perfect grid search of the debris. Palmer's report from the scene confirms that it's Truxton, done in by a large caliber laser cannon. I give them time to bring back all the human remains they can find, remembering that Truxton was part of our team and one of the crew was a Marine who transferred a month ago from Yorktown. We don't leave anyone behind if we can, especially not one of our own, and especially after we just left four of our kind on Libor Prime.

  I grab McAdams once we're positive of the identification and exit the bridge. Corporal McNally is standing watch at the visitor's quarters hatch, making sure there are no aliens wandering around. I have him get backup, then follow us in.

  We don't know much about these aliens, but Phil is looking decidedly not well. I think. He's weak, his eyes are off color, there's more, but it's hard to put into human terms. He's sick. I touch the button on my collar.

  "Dr. Bonilovich to the forward visitor's quarters, on the double."

  I fire up the big screen, activate the touch controls, push the big control over to Phil. I take out my pad, and type in: Are you sick? Snowflakes appear. There's one snowflake that means the sentence is a question, though it doesn't look like a question mark.

  It moves, the non-human body language makes it impossible for me to know what it's thinking. It's disturbing. It could be quietly asking me for something, telling me to frak off, or that it's in love. I can't tell.

  I watch and wait. It decides, reaches out and pulls the controls to itself.

  SICK NO. NO MEDICINE.

  Confused yes. Does that mean it's not sick and doesn't want medicine or that it's not sick, but doesn't have his medicine?

  I type in: need medicine?

  YES.

  I continue, the doctor is on his way, but I don't bother to tell Phil. I type: why are you killing us?

  WIN WAR.

  Me: we're not at war.

  NOT YOU.

  Me: your planet is at war with another planet?

  YES.

  Me: then why kill us?

  USE YOU HELP THEM.

  McAdams must be having an inspiration, because she makes body language I understand. She wants to ask a question. I, feeling rather confused by that last answer, motion her on.

  McAdams: are you from the planet we visited?

  NO. YES.

  McAdams: explain?

  NOT BORN. NOW HOME.

  The doctor pops in.

  "Doctor, I need you to take blood samples and run a drug test."

  "Sir, I took blood samples when it came on board, I have already run them through the mass spec. I haven't looked at the results."

  "Now would be a good time, Doctor, if you please."

  He pulls out his pad, flips around in it for a minute or two. Looks puzzled.

  "And?"

  "Sorry, sir, he has the same opiod in his blood that Petty Officer Scott had in his. He's addicted, their biology is similar enough to ours."

  "What do we do to keep it alive?"

  "The easiest way would be to synthesize that opiod from our stores. I could try to wean him off it, but I don't know enough about his physiology to be sure about that."

  I think on it for a few seconds. "Give it what it needs, doctor, keep it alive until we get home."

  "Aye, sir. If I may, I'll go get to work preparing."

  "Dismissed, doctor. Keep me updated."

  "Aye, sir." And he's gone. I turn back to Phil and type: medicine controls you.

  YES.

  Me: why don't you stop?

  NOT ALLOW LIFE.

  Me: you don't allow them to stop?

  NO. GIVE THEY TO ME.

  Me: they drug you.

  YES.

  Me: who?

  LIFE.

  Me: who are life?

  It stops, thumbs through the dictionary for a while.

  CLAN ENEMY.

  Me: there are clans on the planet?

  NO.

  My brain kicks over. Usually my butt gets it first, score one for the grey matter.

  Me: Libor planets are clans?

  YES.

  Me: what is your clan?

  DEATH.

  Me: how many clans are there?

  THREE.

  Me: Libor have only three planets?

  YES.

  Me: the clans are at war?

  YES.

  Me: if we give you a chart will you show us your home planet?

  NO. (Yeah, well it didn't hurt to ask.)

  Me: Life wants to use us to fight the war?

  YES.

  Me: How do we stop them?

  DEATH.

  Me: Kill them?

  NO.

  Me: Join your clan?

  YES.

  Me: How do we do that if you won't tell us where they are?

  KNOW YOU WILL.

  He shifts away from us and even I can read that body language. Our conversation is over. Join the Death clan. Lovely. I leave him to the Marines. I find myself calling Phil a he. Not sure if that's because he's Phil, or because there's something ‘he' about him. It.

  We're well past the five hour on site mark when they get back aboard, the aliens trailing us in the Libor system obviously not willing or not wanting to make the jump to keep chasing us, not sure why exactly, especially when they obviously went out of their way to make sure no one back home knows what went on on Libor Prime.

  I gave Emily the go ahead to start engine repairs when we reached the debris, it takes her another five hours to finish after the Marines get back aboard. We use the time to make certain, as best we can, that the Libor are not in this system. They cut our communications line by destroying our courier, that may be the extent of it,
but I'm not buying it just yet.

  McAdams and her team, plus four handpicked Marines from the second squad, used every sensor we have, including active radars, to search for ships in the system, but found nothing out to a couple light-hours.

  I get us all buttoned up, run a live test of the repaired engine, and run up the sails.

  "Mr. Garcia, jump us to the rendevous point in Gamma Upsilon."

  "Upsilon, aye. Five minutes."

  We go through all our normal jump prep, not being chased by anyone this time. We're staring at the unnamed star, and then we're staring at the Gamma Upsilon sun, the only visible change that we're a little further out.

  "Courtney, locate Hornet, get me Admiral Sutherland." The destroyer task force should be within 100,000 clicks of where we jumped.

  She's back in 10 seconds.

  "No ships within 250,000 clicks, expanding search."

  I reach into my console and hit a switch for battlestations. Alarms and horns make, I'm sure, a tired crew tireder. Mission orders were for at least one destroyer to stay here at all times.

  We float a tense 10 minutes or so until McAdams has some news.

  "Skipper, two contacts, probably our corvettes, in orbit around sub-planetary body 024."

  That's where we found the alien base a month ago, it's unoccupied and somewhat radioactive from one of my missiles at the present time.

  I get into my comm panel and send a tight beam radio transmission toward them.

  "Congress, this is Yorktown. Sit rep, please."

  At this range, four minutes until they get that, longer til we get a response. I call up the tactical displays and convince myself the targets are friendly while we wait. Finally, my comm lights flash and I hit play. Summerlin's distinctive drawl hits my ears.

  "Yorktown, jumped direct here from Libor system, rendevous point empty on our arrival, we came to check the only other logical place they might be. No one home here either, been considering our options. What's your pleasure, Captain?"

  I give him a quick reply. He violated mission orders by not passing through the unnamed intermediate system, also, therefore, doesn't know about Truxton. Lt. Maxwell was an old friend of his, I doubt I'm going to have to yell at Summerlin for not jumping to the transfer point, he's going to blame himself.

  "Truxton destroyed at transfer point, all hands lost. Proceed inbound to rendevous point, maximum possible speed."

  Ten minutes later we've received his acknowledgment and seen the boats move, delayed by the speed of light. He'll be here in 10 hours.

  I call Palmer and Ramos to join me, Shelby, and Rains in my ready room.

  "Lieutenant Ramos, I'm sending you home with our corvettes when they get here. We need that alien on Earth where they can properly interrogate him, and we need to get Weese to a real hospital. I know you want to stay, I owe you my life a couple times, but I can't send that Libor on one of those boats without a solid guard, and the only other option is to break up one of Tony's squads. This is what makes sense. No arguments, please."

  "Yes, sir. I'm worried about Weese too, despite what your doctor says. And I promise there will be no problems getting home."

  "Thank you, gentlemen." I nod at Ramos. "They'll be here in about nine hours. Be ready, you'll go within an hour after." "Ooh Rah." Jointly from the two of them, and they're gone.

  Then it's float and wait for the corvettes, who join us 500 meters to starboard, right on time. We haven't used our LS boats in a while, I have their aviators take them out and do a systems test, which frees up room for Congress and Decatur on the side docking collars. My screen shows the two pilots making perfect approach and docking maneuvers. I once thought that giving the frigates four docking collars each was overkill, now I'm wondering if we shouldn't add a couple.

  Summerlin and Rivera join me, Shelby, and Rains in my ready room. We sent them both a download of Truxton data by laser, no need to waste time going through it again.

  "You two are going home. You're taking my wounded and my captive and all the data we have."

  "Sir," it's Rivera, "an entire battle group is missing, we should stay and assist in locating it."

  "Lieutenant, our command structure does not know a single thing about what happened on Libor Prime beyond that we were learning to communicate. For all we know, the Senator could be on Canada 2 right now persuading the President to make a state visit. You go back the instant we've got your boats loaded."

  "Aye, sir."

  I let a little too much of my anger out at her.

  "Sorry for being cross, I don't like losing people. I don't like being three steps behind every second like we've been for months."

  I get nods of agreement, then I look at Summerlin, the task force commander.

  "You are transporting three Marines as guards, one unconscious wounded Marine, one living alien, and roughly a ton of remains and debris from Truxton. Take 20 to decide how you want to handle it, let Mr. Rains know, and we'll get the Marines to move everything. Tell your crew to start the data download now. And give them a 20 minute shore leave if they want to come aboard."

  "Aye, sir."

  They don't use their 20, everybody on board their boats stays there, apparently anxious to be on their way. They'll be there 10 minutes after they unhook from Yorktown, you can feel the going home vibes rolling off of them.

  I watch as Ramos and his two men load the Libor into Rivera's boat, and say my goodbyes in person to the unconscious Weese as he is carefully transferred on the other side of my ship to Congress. I thank Ramos and Odoms and Swenson again for all they did on the surface.

  Yorktown sways slightly as the two boats detach and Garcia balances one action and reaction with another from our thrusters, keeping Isaac Newton happy. I watch on my screens as they turn toward the sun and accelerate, Albert Einstein about to play his part for them, and for us.

  "Mr. Garcia, course to jump point, take us to Gamma Nu."

  Chapter 29

  Garcia gave me five potential entry points into the Nu system, I rejected them all. We're going in 50,000 kilometers directly above the north pole of the planetoid base we've visited before. It's a gamble, but if there's a battle going on in this system that's where it should be. With luck, we'll be in position to respond to any threat we encounter, but not under fire. If I'm wrong, though, it could be a long flight to wherever we should have been.

  I make everyone change into their battle suits, and attach their helmets to their couches. I don't know if they think I'm crazy, paranoid, or still on drugs, but they don't quarrel with me either. Yes, we were here not that long ago, and yes, there was only the one pirate and a few odd trails, but me and my butt are in total agreement that things are not what they were. It's quiet on board as we approach the sun.

  "Mr. Belanger, open outer doors, go hot all lasers. Activate CWS sticks three and four. Open doors missile tubes three and four. Mr. McAdams, warm up the nukes in those tubes."

  I get the requisite ayes in response.

  We start counting at 60 and by the time we get to zero we're in deep space in Gamma Nu.

  "Mr. McAdams, full scan, passive only."

  "Aye, Skipper, scanning."

  PFC Dobson, of course, is first to find something.

  "Debris field, escape balloon, 140 mark 176."

  "Courtney?"

  "Confirmed, no sign of any combatants, friendly or otherwise."

  "Mr. Garcia, plot a course to that balloon."

  I don't let my concern for who might be in that balloon outweigh my concern for my crew, we take two hours to cover the distance checking for traps, mines, and bad guys every inch of the way. There are clearly a couple energy trails leading away from the site, fresh energy trails, but without active sensors it takes considerable time before we figure out what's at the end of them.

  It happens while we're parking next to the balloon, Palmer and his team already loaded into their boat.