We didn’t take any of them. We took real reporters who wanted to show the worst of the Free Fleet. They acted as a shield for reliability and culpability. Everyone knew we couldn’t pay them off or bribe our reporters, even if they were busy pulling us apart and reporting on the places we visited.
Governments had shortly followed the public outburst with wanting to get their own people to “observe” the fleet, as if Earth was somehow more important than the other worlds I was dealing with.
“You want to give me a babysitter? You’ve signed documents giving your people protection and protection for you. And you! One planet! Want the authority to give me a watchdog? I’m interested, who would this watchdog be?”
“Mr. Keith Edwards,” one said.
Another leader quickly followed him. “Yes, and if you do not allow him to board, then we will cut the agreement and all ties to the Free Fleet. Denying you the ability to recruit from Earth.”
Which means I will lose most of my forces because they will be cut off from their families, and they can’t get back up here. If I had more time then I’d be able to figure something out, but time was the one thing I was lacking. So, for now, I was going to have to walk the line, but it didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.
“Very well.” I stared at the bulkhead in front of me. “Krom, record.”
“Recording.”
“I, Commander Salchar, do accept a watchdog, who is duly appointed by Earth’s governing bodies, by the name of Mr. Keith Edwards. Is what I say correct? State what territory you govern as well as your consent.”
They each did so.
“As with any contract where personnel are placed in the command structure of the Free Fleet, they are subject to Free Fleet rules and codes. Thus, if your watchdog does not follow these rules and codes to the letter, you all, who agreed on his behalf, will be subject to the full penalty that he will enjoy, up to and including execution.” I paused as they began whining again. “They will also not be allowed to reveal military secrets or other military information.” Think you were the only ones who could pull a fast one? I enjoyed my imagined looks on their faces. “A shuttle will be sent momentarily. He will be on that shuttle.”
“Why so fast?” someone complained.
“Because my fleet is needed elsewhere. Have a good day.” I cut the channel as I stood. The shuttle was moving through Nancy’s superstructure and toward the Resilient’s hangars.
“Do you have it all?” I turned and looked to Krom.
“Yes, sir. I have made backups in Hachiro and made sure Commander Whorst is made aware of it.”
“Good.”
“I will stop recording now.” He fiddled with his Mecha.
“I thought you already had.”
“I’ve never used it before. Damn thing’s finicky.”
I half grinned as he opened the hatch and Calerd walked in with my Mecha. “Get that shuttle down to Pendleton to pick up the watchdog. Have the Rebirth’s armorer ready to outfit him with a battle suit and Mecha.”
Calerd grunted. “Once more into the flames.”
I rolled my shoulders and moved, knowing that for the foreseeable future my movement would be much more limited.
“All right, strap me in.” I connected with my nerve ports and the others strapped, tightened, and clamped me into my Mecha. I felt the reactor’s power as it supplied power to the different systems. The servos whined with my movement.
“Damn, I thought I got rid of that,” I grumbled as I walked through the shuttle bay. The noises of deadly machines making their way across the deck made me grin as Commandos and personnel moved through the armories and off to other jobs.
No one saluted as I came in as per action orders. Though, I did see a few twitches.
“How long for the cross loading and final work-up?”
“Six hours,” Rick said.
“Make—”
“I’ve already made sure that everyone knows how long it will be.”
I nodded as I took my seat. My comms buzzed. Yasu was calling me.
“I see that I’m not on the roster,” she said in a tone that made it clear that she should be.
“I need to have Commandos and personnel to keep this fleet going. Earth is where we’re getting most of our trainees from. You’re the best trainer of Commandos I’ve got.”
“So it has nothing to do with wanting to keep me away from the front lines?”
“Probably partly, but it is also the best use of you.”
“I am.” She took a breath as she calmed down. “It does make sense, as much as I hate to admit it. Though, I want to be back with the fleet once you’re done getting Parnmal back.”
She says it as if I’m going for a walk, not going up against a proper fleet. “Yes, dear.”
“Good. I love you.”
And my brain left my skull as I sat there, repeating those words over again.
“You going to say anything?”
I kept myself from grinning like an idiot. “I love you too.”
“Good.”
I could hear the smile in her tone. I, however, needed to keep up appearances on the bridge.
Last-minute and vital fixes continued as Boot moved to join his patrol group to mine. I had a destroyer commanded by Kalel, with three corvettes underneath him, to continue their survey of the nearest systems to wormhole to and provide security for the Free Fleet and Earth.
Sparks flew from a panel as it blew out.
“The fuck was that?” I asked.
“Eddie is having the new power plants brought online,” Rick said.
“Why didn’t he do that earlier?”
“Well, he didn’t exactly expect us to be moving so quickly.”
I nodded. “Understandable.”
“He’s replacing the two that were scrammed during the last fight,” Rick continued as I pulled up a work order Eddie had submitted.
Well, at least I know I can move and shoot at the same time now. I’m going to need that extra thrust.
Rough Journeys
Bregend grunted as the Rebirth shook as it exited a wormhole near the event horizon.
“Engineer Rous is working on a report,” Mills said.
“Good. I want the generators running. Nav, plot our next route.”
“Clear out to one AU,” Qurv, the sensor commander said. A slight Sarenmenti lisp made him sound like a snake rather than the clicking and grunting most Sarenmenti sounded like without a translator.
“Charging wormhole generators. Five hours until we’re ready,” Wilma said.
“Go—”
“I’m getting radio signals emanating from a planet,” Kyle said, cutting off Bregend’s response.
“Log it. Qurv, launch a sensor buoy and a stealth information collector.”
No one said anything. They didn’t have time to sight-see. There was still a lot of distance to cover till they got to Psycho Cheerleader.
***
Cheerleader tapped her fingers as the Prancer came back into the system, where she and half of her fleet were waiting. The Durfna, the Prancer’s sister corvette, followed a minute after.
“They’re within time check. All clear,” Jorvut grunted. He was one of the first generation of Chaleelian Free Fleet personnel. Cheerleader had lost her old sensor commander to the training halls that took Chaleelians, Avarians, and anyone who wanted to be trained in something other than the trade they were forced into by the Syndicate.
“Very well,” Cheerleader said in a light tone, belying the boredom she felt.
She had been in command of the fleet that looked to explore the systems surrounding Parnmal. It was time-consuming work, with eight systems within wormhole range and only one of them not leading to another system—the others had up to four.
“Speed is level,” Jorvut said after a few seconds of checking.
Cheerleader had figured out a method of using the jump sensors that got information FTL. With the first few jumps, she’d found that eac
h wormhole exit was changed in signature by the speed they entered the wormhole’s horizon.
Thus, if a ship was in a system, it gathered all the incoming light from the sun and other star systems, and jumped back with over five minutes between ships. Meaning that the system was safe for the immediate vicinity. Any other time and it was not. Speed was used to highlight how many systems were within wormhole jump. Faster than normal, over three. Slow—no systems. Normal—up to three.
Which meant that the system that the two ships were in now was immediately clear and contained up to three systems.
“Send the destroyer Hakara, cruisers Damnation and Throw, as well as corvettes Speedy and Borva,” Cheerleader said.
Her combined arms commander sent the orders to the ships, which moved away from Cheerleader toward the incoming corvettes.
“Werv, you’ve got command. I’m off,” she said as her shift ended.
Werv took her seat as she walked out to the mess and grabbed some food.
“Hey there, Onur, Jesse, Simiah,” Cheerleader said to the people at the table she sat down at. They were from all areas of the ship, but they all had joined the gaming club, which was one of the most popular clubs in Cheerleader’s fleet.
“We got the new maps finally,” Simiah said, one of the few Kuruvians who had picked to be female.
Cheerleader grinned. It had taken months, being sent by Salchar when he freed Earth.
“Good. We can get to work on setting up another Mecha Assault Cup.” Her grin became serious as she looked at them. “Now, we better win here—there is a reputation that I have to uphold. I am from Mecha Tail. Losing is not an option!” she said as her teammates grinned. “I’m being serious here!” She felt the corners of her mouth betrayed her with their small attempts to form into a smile.
“I don’t think I’ve met a bunch of people who look less serious, well, other than Monk and Salchar,” Onur said as Cheerleader’s mouth split into a grin.
“You haven’t seen us when we’ve had soju after a championship. I swear, Salchar has never drank alcohol in his life. Great for guiding us home, stumbling as we do.”
“I heard about your drinking escapades with the Commandos,” Jesse said.
Cheerleader’s face turned a light shade of green. “Calling that drinking would be a compliment. It was a fight to keep gasoline down,” Cheerleader said to their unrelenting grins as she looked at her food. “Just had to bring it up as I’m having dinner.” She looked at the meal, looking mildly disgusted.
“We heard tales of your vault-like stomach from that night.” Jesse grinned knowingly as Cheerleader shrugged and dug into her food.
“Doesn’t look you’re having that bad of a time,” Simiah said.
Cheerleader looked up and cleared her throat. “You’re right, Simiah. We should do it as a team next time.” Cheerleader’s grin promised sinister things.
“Uh, I think I’m needed back in Commando territory,” Jesse said.
“Yeah, I think the chief needed us back in the gunnery,” Simiah said as they rushed to stand up.
“We’ll play next Friday!” Cheerleader said as they rushed to deposit their trays on the return belt. Cheerleader sat at her table, eating her dinner in peace. She grinned slightly at her friends’ reactions as she opened her data pad. It included lots of Earth memorabilia, like manga and comic books. James had included them with his maps and other electronic entertainment items.
“Ah, you know me too well, James.” , just get me doing something interesting instead of scanning systems!
A Rushed Departure
Keith Edwards was a wispy-looking accountant of a man, wearing a business suit complete with a briefcase and glasses, and furiously typed on his touch pad.
He worked for the greatest country on Earth and in the universe: the United States of America. Which was one of the reasons that seeing the shuttle settle in front of him drove raw anger through him. A bunch of kids and damned aliens believed that they were somehow better than the United States and instead of turning over command of the Free Fleet to the American military, they had instead asked people in that military to work under them.
Quite a lot of men and women who could had joined up with the Free Fleet—turning their backs on America, in Edwards’s mind.
He had worked for the CIA before the military had grown in so much power that it practically controlled everything, including the different intelligence departments.
Most had been pretty sour about how those agencies had fallen. Edwards had seen how things were going and had joined the military as an intelligence officer. The power he had gained was monumental. He had met the new president a number of times and he agreed with the way the man thought. America had become weak, and people like Edwards were going to help forge America into the powerful giant it was once again.
The shuttle settled in the field, where he left his bags. His lip curled in disgust as he walked up toward the shuttle. It blew dust and crap everywhere as he walked closer. A ramp lowered as the engines shut down.
An alien, one of the Kuruvian types, greeted him.
“Sir, you shouldn’t approach the shuttle before it’s landed,” the Kuruvian said in a severe tone.
Edwards pulled out his pad and began typing on it. “Crew member tried to cover for pilot’s amateur status and incompetence by blaming passenger.” Edwards looked to the Kuruvian, their lower arms moving in some disgusting manner. “Is there anything else I should include in my report? No? Fine, get my bags.” Edwards walked into the shuttle.
“Sir.”
“Shuttle was unclean and unfit for transportation.” Edwards looked at the functional surfaces of the shuttle and the open panels that showed different lights and relays with spares next to them.
The Kuruvian’s arms moved in more elaborate ways and he stomped off the craft, headed to gather Edwards’s bags.
Or rather it—not he, as giving the thing a sex would be disgusting in Edwards’s mind. Making it non-sexed was almost as bad.
“Make sure that you don’t mess up my luggage. That is worth more than you are.” The suitcase and laptop bag had cost Edwards what most people made in four months.
The Kuruvian’s upper arms tightened around the luggage as they hit the ramp controls and the ramp pulled up. Engines rose in volume and the Kuruvian stored the luggage in a gear net up at the front of the shuttle.
“What are the armaments and engine systems of this shuttle?” Edwards asked the creature.
“That information is classified.”
“Look, I am a representative of the United States of America. You either answer my questions or the president is going to personally call Salchar and have you returned to whatever hole you crawled out from.”
“My orders come from Salchar. He has never harmed someone for following his orders. I do not know who your ‘president’ is but I will follow my orders to the letter,” the Kuruvian said with the stubbornness of some people Edwards had needed to get “creative” with to get answers out of.
“Do you know why I’m here, you cockroach?” Edwards pushed his glasses back as a vein bulged on his head in anger.
“To secure the treaty between the Free Fleet and Earth,” the Kuruvian said.
“For the United States to understand how badly messed up this fleet has become being run by a deluded gamer, children, and a group of aliens that have no business on Earth or defending it. This is a human planet and we will defend ourselves from all persons and aliens that threaten us,” Edwards said proudly. “Salchar’s delusions will be quickly shown and when the United States chooses to, we will take command of the ships we should have been rightfully given and deal with this Syndicate. Salchar doesn’t even know how to finish off a bunch of basic criminals. Within weeks, we will eradicate them and set to sorting out the rest of you aliens to make sure that you do not pollute the human race.” Edwards snarled.
Thrust increased as the shuttle broke atmosphere.
The Kuruvian had turn
ed off their translator and talked into their communications system.
The noise made Edwards look away in disgust. How could it dare to try to talk in its own language? Such basic and disgusting creatures.
Edwards made notes and took pictures of the shuttle. If they wouldn’t tell him how the shuttle worked, then he would collect all the information he had been charged with gathering without the help of the inept creatures of the Free Fleet.
It wasn’t long before the shuttle’s engines ramped down and then they were landing in a ship’s bay. The ramp opened and the Kuruvian grabbed Edwards’s bags, leaving them at the end of the ramp, not talking to Edwards before it walked off, looking over the shuttle.
Edwards was happy to not talk to the abomination of nature.
He strode down the ramp, taking pictures and making notes of the shuttle bay. The Commandos looked impressive but he doubted they were any match to American military might, dismissing them out of hand. They were children and aliens, after all; nothing more threatening than the child soldiers in Africa. America could take them at any time they chose; the Free Fleet Commandos were no different.
A group of five creatures in powered armor were spread out around a man wearing a battle suit.
Edwards recognized the man from his debrief. He was Salchar, the gamer who had placed himself as the head of the Free Fleet and refused to pass command over to others better qualified than him.
Edwards remembered seeing the clips of him denying other officers the command of the Free Fleet. It was only a matter of time until he realized that he was unqualified for the position and got the United States to bail him out.
Edwards made a note of how Salchar did look as though he had indeed been altered by an alien practice into some kind of creation, leaving his humanity behind.
“Take this to my quarters. I will be on the bridge,” Edwards said dismissively as he handed out his suitcase. Not that he trusted him, but decorum must be met.
Salchar looked at him with a blank stare while one of the larger thugs behind him made aggressive noises.
“I am a representative of the United States, the most powerful country in existence. When you are done playing commander, we will be the ones protecting Earth from this gang you’ve pissed off. You would be best served to do what I said so that the president doesn’t come down on you with the full might of the United States judicial system when that time comes.” Edwards tilted his suitcase back and forth, enjoying making Salchar look weak like he truly was.
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