by Randy Dyess
“Has Cheyenne made any, yet?”
“No, but she thinks a Max 1000 printer would be able to produce a few hundred weapons and a few million rounds of ammunition with one print run. They are just base metals and a few base chemicals for the propellant—should be easy and cheap enough.”
“Any issues?” Dakota asked.
“Yes. The weapons are very heavy and require oxygen to create the small explosion used to propel the bullets. I don’t think they could be used aboard a ship. Not only are they a danger in a pure oxygen environment, but the rounds would pierce the hull. She thinks there might be smaller designs my team could use, but she’ll have to get back to me.”
“So these weapons would be primarily for ground defense?”
“You wouldn’t happen to know of anyone who works with ground teams and may have to defend his base against a large-scale spider attack soon, would you?” Robert asked with a smirk.
“Now that you mention it, there is this one marine we could help,” Dakota replied with a chuckle. “When do you think we’ll have some to test?”
“Let me contact Cheyenne and tell her the weapons would be useful to Sergeant Major McCoons on Shaserus. Maybe that’ll speed things up.”
“It’s not like her people have anything else to do,” Dakota grinned. “I mean, the defense of mankind only depends on the weapons they design.”
“Yeah, I’m trying to figure out how to get her some help, but it’s not like I run in scientific circles. I don’t have a data chip full of researchers looking for jobs,” Robert replied.
“You know, Hybee is not too far down the list of what will be attacked. There’s a Senate research facility there. Maybe you can assign a team to watch the facility, and if the spiders are about to attack and the Senate hasn’t evacuated their researchers, offer them a ride and a new job.”
“Good idea,” Robert replied. “I know of a new member on my team who could use some surveillance training. This would be a good op for him to learn on. I’ll spin up a team and have them make an intel run to give Michael a chance to work with the team before the real op.”
“How’s he doing? Your team must be a big change for him.”
“He’s doing fine—best sword and knife fighter I have ever seen. He’s good with hand-to-hand, good with weapons, and picking up explosives, as well.”
“What about having to go up against people, when the time comes? Will he be able to do that? I know you said he had some misgivings.”
“We gave him a home and a family when we put him on the team. I think, when the time comes, he’ll do anything necessary to help his brothers and sisters. I’m not worried.”
“Good. It looks like he’s a good candidate then.”
“Of course he is—I picked him,” Robert joked. “Now he has to learn the boring part of the job. It’s not all about fighting and fancy weapons.”
“Yeah, you guys spend a month sitting around with your feet up, playing cards and holo-games, before you the ten minutes of action. I have a feeling he’ll be able to do the boring part,” Dakota joked back.
“And sitting on a ship, shouting orders to everyone else is rough,” Robert jabbed.
“At least you don’t have the amount of paperwork I do with each trip. You fill in what—one mission report?—and you’re done. I think your AI does all the writing, you just look at it and grunt your approval, and then the AI files it.”
“Nobody said you had to have your head in space, little sister. I’m sure Dad would have let you clean yourself up and join the executives negotiating for a new something or other.”
Dakota punched Robert in the arm as she turned and walked away, laughing. “Oh,” she said before turning back around, “how did those new weapons Cheyenne sent you to work out?”
“Great weapons, but I can’t use them. The armor is fine but too bulky for shipboard and too noisy for stealth missions. The nano-blade is amazing—it’ll cut through anything, including the new suits and hull of a ship if you happen to drop it. I’m still evaluating the nano-blade. The suits, I’m sending back.”
“Give them to me. I’ll include them as a gift to our favorite marine. They’re always yelling at each other—the noisy suits might actually be quieter than a bunch of marines.”
“I’ll have them sent over,” Robert chuckled.
“Put them on that old freighter we had rebuilt for your missions. We’ll use it to haul our goodies to McCoons and his bunch. He’ll probably find a use for it. We hardwired some of the electronics against EMP and sunbursts. Some of the equipment might survive the spider weapon.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else, Captain?” Robert joked.
“Yes. Send Sergeant Grant to me for a private maga lesson. I need a good workout.”
“The sergeant has other things to do than spending time giving you a lesson while you ogle him. Go find your own dates,” Robert laughed. Dakota broke out in laughter, as well, as she walked out of the room.
Robert stood to leave, too, and thought, You know, the sergeant has been under a lot of stress lately training Michael. Maybe he does need an easy training partner.
*****
Dakota was already in the pilot’s seat of the old, two-crew freighter when Robert came aboard. He looked at the co-pilot’s seat for a minute before mimicking dusting it off and sitting down. “Decided to play first chair again, I see,” he said.
“You snooze, you lose,” Dakota shot back.
“I’m ten minutes early,” Robert said.
“I was fifteen minutes early, which makes you five minutes late and second in command, even though you’re older and think everyone should automatically follow you around. As second in command, it’s your duty to go check the freight and make sure it’s secure while I fire up this old bucket.” Robert grunted, but stood to go check the freight. “Clean the toilet and change the towels, while you’re at it—and bring me some of that tea brewing in the back. If there’s no tea brewing, then brew some.” Dakota joked.
Robert slapped her on the top of her head as he walked by. It’s good to be with family, he thought. All those years of wasting my time in Senate Intelligence when I could have been helping my family.
A few minutes later, he came back to the bridge. “Everything secure back there?” Dakota asked.
“Yes, ma'am. Cargo all secured. Toilet’s clean and fresh towels have been laid out. I even put a mint on your pillow.”
“My tea?”
“Brewing. I believe you like it with three cockroaches, instead of two, correct?”
She rolled her eyes and contacted Spaceport Control for departure clearance. Once out of orbit and into their FTL tunnel, Robert looked at her. “Did you set everything up with McCoons?”
“Yes. He’ll be at the spaceport with a few trusted people. He gave me a marine code to get clearance.”
It only took a few hours of FTL travel time to get to the marine spaceport on Shaserus. “This is damn close to Pegasus Prime,” Robert commented as they exited their FTL endpoint.
“We’re going to one of the next few on the list to attack. I think it’s time to starting packing up before it’s too late,” Dakota said. Robert nodded.
The codes worked and they were given a landing pattern at the marine spaceport without any questions. As they were landing, Dakota could see Sergeant Major McCoons and a small group of marines standing in front of an old warehouse. “Our greeting party is here,” she said. “I’ll bring it down next to that warehouse.”
“Copy, that. I’ll go back and prepare for arrival,” Robert replied. Dakota knew his preparations included arming himself, in case something went wrong. Robert did not trust anyone outside the family and always carried a small arsenal with him wherever he went.
After landing and powering down the old freighter, they exited the ship. “You sure scraped the bottom of the barrel to come up with that one,” Sergeant Major McCoons joked as he walked up to them and shook their hands. “The young captain has a new ship, I s
ee.”
“That’s not my ship,” she replied while tossing McCoons a small data command chip. “That’s your ship, for now, and I expect you to wash and tidy her up before you give her back.”
Sergeant Major McCoons caught the command chip and nodded toward the old warehouse—his signal that it would be safe to talk once they got there. “So, how’s the family?” he asked as they walked in. He nodded at one of the sergeants, who bent and turned on a series of jammers. Robert reached into his pocket, pulled out his own jammer, turned it on, and waited for a green light to appear.
“We should be clear to talk,” he said.
“Did you get the data I sent?” Dakota started.
“Yes. It made some interesting reading. Those Senate idiots finally found something that worked.”
“They had to go back hundreds of years, but yes, they found something that worked,” Dakota replied.
“You didn’t have to come all the way out to this paradise of a planet to tell me. Did you bring us some goodies?” the Sergeant Major asked with a glint in his eye.
“Yes, we did,” Dakota smiled.
“We need to make sure no one watches us unload,” Robert cut in. “Create a diversion while the ship is unloaded and the cargo hidden. Our code buys us some time, but eventually, someone will get nosy and want to inspect the ship.”
“Gotcha,” McCoons replied. “Rodney, let’s get everything moving.”
“Yes, Sergeant Major,” he replied. “You have a good time, and I’ll take care of the rest. See you at Point Charlie in an hour.”
“Good enough,” Sergeant Major McCoons replied. He looked at Dakota and Robert, “If you two would be kind enough to occupy me and Sergeant Henry, we’ll go get a nice drink while the rest of my team takes care of the cargo.” He tossed the command chip to Sergeant Preston and started walking toward an old marine aircar parked in the warehouse.
The two marines, Dakota, and Robert piled into it and streaked out of the warehouse. No more than two minutes went by before it descended and parked in front of a seedy bar. “Not much to look at, but the drinks are good and the clientele knows enough to mind their own business,” McCoons said.
The group went in and the sergeant major grabbed a small booth in the back and ordered drinks. After ten minutes of listening to Robert and Sergeant Henry telling old war stories, McCoons grabbed Dakota's elbow and whispered into her ear, “Robert and Sergeant Henry will stay here. I have another aircar out back, which will take us to the storage location.” Robert had heard the Sergeant Major’s words but didn’t respond. Dakota looked at him, and he nodded.
She and the sergeant major got up and headed toward the side of the bar and into the back room. They slipped out a door and loaded into the aircar waiting for them. Robert and Sergeant Henry continued their stories, ordering more drinks and getting louder and louder. The rest of the bar could hear the two old marines and soon forgot that Dakota and Sergeant Major McCoons had ever been there.
*****
It only took a few minutes for them to make it to the secret storage location. By then, the other marines had delivered the crates and were guarding them. When McCoons and Dakota walked into the storage room, she took him to a large crate.
“Use the command chip and open it,” she said. He nodded to Sergeant Preston, who opened the crate.
“What are these?” the sergeant asked. He reached into the crate and pulled out two large, strangely designed metal rifles.
“Those are the kinetic weapons marines used over six hundred and fifty years ago in the Unification Wars. They are the same type of weapon the Senate Intelligence agents used on Chaovis against the spiders.”
“Spiders?” Sergeant Preston asked.
“I haven’t told anyone, yet,” McCoons replied. “Rodney, we’ll get together with the other NCOs and talk about things after this is over. Right now, I’ll give you the short version.
“I was on Candus when it was invaded by an alien fleet. The invaders took out everything electrical with a strange EMP. They bombed the planet with plasma balls to create landing zones and then brought down millions, if not billions, of three-meter high spiders. The spiders swarmed over everything and took the population of the planet as captives. We think they will be used for food.” He could tell Sergeant Preston was having a hard time believing his story. “I’ll go over everything in detail later and show you the evidence. You’ll just have to trust me, for now.”
“The leadership? The Senate? They already know?”
“Yes. Candus wasn’t the first, nor the last planet attacked. There have been and will be others. Neither the leadership nor the Senate have bothered to let anyone outside their little circle know about the attacks or the missing people. I don’t even know if the Marine leadership knows anything. It might just be the Senate Security Committee.”
Sergeant Preston took a few minutes before responding. “They knew enough to test these weapons during an attack. The weapons worked and they haven’t armed us with them, so why are you arming us with them?”
“You’re next,” Dakota replied. Even though McCoons suspected the planet was going to be attacked, he didn’t think it would be so soon. “Chaovis was a week ago, and the attack pattern has them on a new planet once every month. They only seem to attack dry planets, and Shaserus is the next dry planet after Chaovis.”
“How much time do we have left?” the sergeant major asked.
“Three weeks, maybe four,” Dakota replied, “but I would be ready in less than three if I were you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied before looking at Sergeant Preston. “Are you good for now?”
“Yes, Alphus, I am. Sorry for interrupting, ma’am.”
“No problem—it’s a little difficult to take in on the fly. As I was saying, these weapons are not exactly like the ones used by the team of agents,” Dakota replied. “They used the large weapons in those two crates,” she said while pointing to a pile a few meters away. “These were designed to be carried and used by one person, just like your MRG-345A. They are individual kinetic rifles. The agents used weapons called a .30 caliber machine gun and a .50 caliber machine gun. They’re larger and heavier and require a lot of ammunition—too much to carry around.”
“Understood,” McCoons replied. Marines were familiar with all types of weapons.
“There are manuals on the chip. The chemical propellant used is harmful to the metal, so you have to clean the weapons after use, or they build up a residue and jam.”
“Jam?” Sergeant Preston asked.
“The ammunition sticks in the gun and prevents it from firing. You have to manually clear the jam to continue.”
“We’ll read the manuals and come up with a training plan,” Sergeant Major McCoons replied.
Dakota nodded and walked to a smaller crate on a pile of similar crates. Sergeant Preston used the command chip to open it. “These are called grenades,” she said, picking one up. “You pull this pin, release the handle, and throw it at whatever you want to destroy. After five seconds, it will explode, sending a hail of metal shrapnel to a diameter of about ten meters. It should work nicely against spider flesh.
“All of these designs are based on weapons used during the Unification Wars. The designs may be six hundred and fifty years old, but Robert had an insider tell him a Senate Intelligence team used similar weapons during the attack on Chaovis. Five agents managed to kill dozens of spiders and damage one of their ships enough to keep it from launching after unloading its spiders.”
“They have a ship?”
“Well, no. The spiders changed tactics and sent down a plasma ball, which destroyed the ship and a few spiders the team managed to wound. They used the .50 caliber during the first wave. It was too powerful for the spiders and destroyed them all. The .30 caliber is smaller, and they were able to use it to cripple the spiders.”
“How did they manage to damage the ship?”
“They fired into it while the hatch was opening a
nd discharging spiders. They tried firing at the hull, but all the rounds bounced off.”
“And those crates?”
“Those are ammunition.” Dakota took the command chip from Sergeant Preston and opened the lid of the third crate. She reached in, pulling out a half-meter long, black handle. She smiled and pressed a switch, and a meter long, vibrating sword appeared. “These, however, are not ancient designs. Cheyenne and her team developed these based on your and Michael Lee’s description of killing spiders with swords.”
“Cheyenne?” Sergeant Preston asked.
“Her genius sister,” McCoons said with a smile.
“I think you'll really like this. It creates a blade with an edge that's only a few atoms thick—sharp enough to cut through just about anything.” Dakota walked over to a metal table and laid the edge of the sword against it. The sword melted through the thick metal top of the table and through the metal leg, as well, before she pulled it back up. “Robert said he couldn’t use one on a ship because if you drop it while it’s on, it goes right through the hull. Be careful with them.”
“Will they survive the burst?” Sergeant Major McCoons asked.
“Cheyenne’s team thinks so, but we don’t actually know. They are electronic, but they use a simple circuit and are surrounded by a special ceramic that someone on her team developed to survive a journey into a sun. She’s hoping it will work, but don’t have them turned on during the blast. Whatever the spiders use might travel through the sword and into the electronics.”
“Understood, and you’re right: I want one right now to play with,” McCoons laughed.
“He does like his swords,” Sergeant Preston said with a smile.
“What's in the big crates?” the sergeant major asked with a greedy look. “So far, you've given us a lot of goodies. I can't wait to see the ones you’re saving for last.” Dakota smiled as she walked over the large crate and opened it. “Holy crap! Is that a working armor suit? I’ve seen them in museums, but I've always wanted to play around with a working one. I thought only Senate Intelligence agents were allowed to have suits like that.”
