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Wrath of an Angry God: A Military Space Opera (The Sentience Trilogy Book 3)

Page 2

by Gibson Michaels


  Attached to the requisition was a “mitigating circumstances statement,” written on Kalis’ personal letterhead. On it was an unusually frank statement where Kalis warned that if Admiral Luckman hesitated to approve this requisition in its entirety for even half a heartbeat, he promised to personally return to Rikmon just as fast as a Raptor could get him here from Kitty Litter, so that he could personally bust Admiral Luckman back to Spacer Apprentice, before cashiering him from the Fleet — for the express purpose of avoiding charges of physical assault on a brother officer, when he physically strangled Charlie Luckman with his own two hands. After a second reading to convince himself that his eyes hadn’t really deceived him, Moreau roared with gut-wrenching laughter and got up from his desk to walk this requisition through personally. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Admiral Luckman’s face, when he was first confronted with the likelihood of being personally asphyxiated by a living legend.

  * * * *

  The Raknii Planet Klista

  September, 3865

  Region-Master Raan was confronted with a multitude of problems. Multiple OverFleet-Masters with just over 10,000 warships arrived, bearing fantastic news of an unimaginable disaster. The human aliens had somehow discovered the location of the Raknii forward base at Golgathal, undetected. A mere 200 human warships had somehow decimated a Raknii fleet consisting of over 43,000 warships, and totally destroyed Golgathal Station as well. Incredible stories were told of gigantic human warships that were totally invulnerable to Rak weapons. Thousands of missile-bearing fighters that were even faster and more nimble than those Tzal’s fleets had faced at the human planet Minnos. Unbelievable tales that approximately 1,200 Rak warships had actually fled from honorable combat were whispered everywhere.

  Worse yet, none of those warships had yet been reported as having appeared at any of the other Rak worlds closest to Golgathal. It was feared that when rational thought returned after having escaped the terrible aliens, shame would drive them to the recognition that they no longer held any place within Rak society and as outcasts, turn to piracy as their only means of survival. All of the Trakaan worlds now resided within the borders of Region-6, so their safety from outlaw Rak attacks was Raan’s responsibility.

  Raan sent word out to all of the Raknii worlds of Regions 6 and 7. Raan also sent warning to the Trakaan, through Planetary Administrator Fraznal at Troxia, lest these potential pirates begin preying on Trakaan worlds and shipping and jeopardize the “peace treaty” he had only recently negotiated with the gray-skinned aliens.

  Even with the additional 10,000 warships the OverFleet-Masters had wisely withdrawn from that impossible situation at Golgathal, Raan only had about 33,200 warships at his disposal and the vast majority of those were on-station, patrolling his borders with Region-5. Raan generally considered Olin trustworthy, as he wasn’t especially aggressive when compared to other Raknii region-masters, but there was no sense in tempting their good relations too greatly. All the other warships that recently had been at Klista were imperial ships, but they had already been forwarded to the eleven new planets in Region-7, in close proximity to the twelve other human worlds that had been located.

  Raan dispatched his deputy in his new personal spaceliner to Raku, to send word of this horrific development directly to Supreme-Master Xior. He had received word of Drix’ visit to his sire on Raku, and of Xior’s elevating him to region-master of the new Region-7. Raan prayed to Dol that Drix would somehow receive word that humans now held the Golgathal system, before he returned there. Just in case, Raan dispatched fast scouts to every Rak world between Raku and Golgathal, in hopes that word would intercept him.

  Little thought was given to the almost a million Raknii and Raknaa who had been down on the surface of the planet of Golgathal. They had no means to assist them and it was just assumed the humans had simply obliterated them by planetary bombardment from space.

  The culling, promised in the prophecy, has begun.

  * * * *

  The Alliance Planet Massa, City of Bostin

  September, 3865

  Diet was yet again at his “brother’s” bedside at Thurgood Rehabilitation Hospital, but this time he just happened to be there when Halbert’s primary physician, Dr. Albert Kaeppeler, was making his rounds.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to step outside, while I examine the patient,” said Dr. Kaeppeler.

  “Why? He’s my brother and we have no secrets from each other.”

  Kaeppeler frowned. “I take it then, that you’re the meddlesome brother whose interference has jeopardized this patient’s treatment.”

  “I take it that you’re the arrogant doctor who’s so caught up in his own self-importance, he feels it beneath him to return calls to the man who’s paying his salary?” replied Diet.

  “I don’t care for your attitude, Mr. Fürt. If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll call security to have you removed.”

  “By all means, call them, doctor… and while you’re calling security, I’ll be calling Dr. Thurgood and you can explain to him why you insist on offending a man who just donated an entire new wing to his hospital.”

  Dr. Kaeppeler reddened in anger and said, “I don’t like you, Mr. Fürt. I don’t like bullies who use their money as a weapon, and insist that rules and protocols don’t apply to them.”

  “The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you, Doctor. I merely use money as a tool,” said Diet. “Sometimes merely as a grease that will lubricate and free a balky part... and at other times as a pry bar, to provide the leverage necessary to break up a logjam.

  “I don’t particularly like self-important assholes who hide behind rules and protocols — to cover up the fact that he’s abusing the authority of his position, to coerce young interns of both sexes into providing him oral sex in a locked storeroom... while my brother was languishing down in the ER.”

  Kaeppeler was livid. “I will sue you for slander and defamation of character!” he roared.

  Never raising his voice, Diet replied, “Please feel free, doctor. I’m quite sure your wife and daughters will enjoy seeing the videos of those events, from their excellent viewpoints on the front row of the courtroom.”

  Kaeppeler suddenly went white, as the blood drained from his face. “Videos?”

  “My people tell me that you should really have that mole on the side of your penis checked out by a dermatologist, as it appears to be a basal cell carcinoma.”

  Kaeppeler was stunned. Mole? He knows about that mole? “What… what do you want from me?”

  “Cooperation, doctor. I want regular updates on my brother’s progress, and I want my calls returned promptly. I merely want you to do your damned job without the belligerent attitude… service with a smile, as it were.”

  “What… what about… that other thing?”

  “As long as my brother’s treatment is enhanced by the establishment of synergy between us, I really don’t care who’s smoking your cigar, or why. You can stick it into a light socket, for all I care.”

  “I, ah… believe we understand each other much better now, Mr. Fürt... and I apologize for my previous attitude, and for not returning your calls.”

  “See, isn’t that more pleasant… now, about my brother?”

  “Oh, yes. Your brother has regained usage of his limbs at an astounding rate. I confess that I’m at a loss to explain the underlying causes of his unfortunate condition. There’s no sign of injury or disease to which we might attribute his symptoms. It’s almost as if he were a new-born babe, who has yet to fully develop strength and coordination in his muscles. It’s the same with his speech. It’s very much like he never learned how to talk, but of course, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Quite. When do you think my brother will be able to walk again?”

  “His leg muscles are developing at a very satisfying rate. He can lift almost 20 lbs now. We’ve already had him up and walking the halls, with assistance of course. His upper body strength has progresse
d to where we believe he’ll be able to walk between support bars, very soon. The next step after that will be using a walker.”

  “Very good... what about his speech?” asked Diet.

  “As I’m sure you’re aware from your visits, he’s forming words, which are still a bit slurred… again, it’s almost like he’d never learned the use of his vocal apparatus at all,” Dr. Kaeppeler continued. “We’re giving him exercises intended to help with his stress/intonation... such as the expression of emotion and inflection, loudness and improvement of his articulation. We’re actually quite satisfied with his progress, so far.”

  “Very well. Please keep me informed, Doctor.”

  “I… I’ll make sure of it, Mr. Fürt.”

  * * * *

  Chapter-2

  We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love. -- Dr. Seuss

  The Planet Kitty Litter

  October 10th, 3865

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman together in holy matrimony; which is an honorable and solemn estate and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and soberly...”

  Between her almost white, shoulder-length hair and her magnificent, custom-tailored wedding dress, Dorothy Fletcher was an angelic vision in white. It was unanimous... she made an absolutely stunning bride. Well over 10,000 people from all over the combined fleets were in attendance. It was standing room only, as virtually every ship was represented. Other than personal friends, the entire crew of Defiant and all of the senior officers of the combined fleets, the balance of the wedding invitations had been distributed by lottery, so lucky spacers of all ranks were there for the first wedding ever performed on an alien planet.

  So great had interest been in this incredible story of love blooming in the midst of terrible combat, a Confederate Fleet holovision crew had been bought in to record the event for rebroadcast on every planet in the Alliance, the Confederacy and on Sextus. Even a half-dozen Raknii, including Planet-Master Mraz himself, were in attendance... all obviously curious to witness this human mating ceremony.

  “It is altogether fitting and proper that we do this, not only to establish a life-long bond of love and affection between this Man and this Woman, but also as the physical embodiment of renewed hope and of renewed life, here on this beautiful planet within this system of death, where so many intelligent beings so recently lost their lives…”

  The Senior Chaplain of the Confederate Fleet had been brought in to conduct the ceremony. Crude spacer humor being what it is, totally inappropriate jokes seemed to spread faster throughout the combined fleets than any other kind. An exceptionally virulent one, started by a particularly insensitive remark had run rampant — a tacky rumor which had it that Commander Lancelot DeSalle, Defiant’s gay executive officer, would be acting as both best man AND maid of honor at the same wedding.

  As the Confederate Fleet band played the traditional rendition of “Here Comes the Bride,” Fleet Admiral Roger Kalis personally escorted Dorothy down the aisle, arm-in-arm, before handing her off to the groom, who awaited them at the altar beside the chaplain. Admiral Ben Stillman was resplendent in his full dress blacks, while all other Confederate officers and spacers wore contrasting gray. The five most senior female officers aboard Defiant served as Dorothy’s bridesmaids, and Admiral Eileen Thorn served as Dorothy’s maid of honor, contrary to how certain crude humorists might have had it.

  No one could remember ever having seen Eileen Thorn wearing a dress before, so that was a notable event unto itself. Alliance Vice Admiral J.T. Turner, Sextus Admiral Jim Hunter and the three most senior Confederate vice admirals within 2nd Fleet served as Ben’s groomsmen. Commander Lancelot DeSalle, Defiant’s executive officer, did indeed stand in as best man for Ben’s missing best friend. Admiral Christopher Rawley had been martyred at the battle of 2nd Tensee, during the War of Confederate Independence.

  “Into this noble estate, these two persons present come now to be joined. If any one can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace…”

  There was a tense moment during this intentional pause in the service, as it was feared that some crude spacer would be unable to resist immortalizing himself with a shouted attempt at humor, but wiser heads prevailed and as the chaplain continued on, the congregation exhaled in relief.

  “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

  Fleet Admiral Kalis, standing in for Dorothy’s family, stepped forward and said, “I do.”

  “Will the bride and groom please join hands?” Dorothy turned to hand the magnificent bouquet of white and black roses she’d been holding to Admiral Thorn, and she then turned back to grasp Ben’s hands joyously.

  “Do you, Benjamin Franklin Stillman, take Dorothy Marie Fletcher, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forth in the holy estate of matrimony? Do you vow to love, honor, comfort, and cherish her from this day forward, and, forsaking all others, keep only unto her, for as long as you both shall live?

  Ben looked deeply into Dorothy’s sparkling turquoise eyes and with a smile the size of Sextus said, “I do!”

  “Do you, Dorothy Marie Fletcher, take Benjamin Franklin Stillman, to be your lawful wedded husband, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor… and as he significantly outranks you… obey him?”

  There was a ripple of laughter that rifled through the congregation at the chaplain’s unexpected insertion of decidedly military humor into the vows themselves. None would have ever believed that, in ancient times, the word “obey” had virtually always been added to the bride’s vows, just like that.

  “Do you vow to comfort and cherish him from this day forward, and, forsaking all others, keep only unto him, for as long as you both shall live?”

  Dorothy beamed up at the man she loved and enthusiastically said, “Oh yes… yes, I certainly do!”

  * * * *

  The Alliance Planet Massa, City of Bostin

  October 10th, 3865

  Noreen found herself confronting a tremendous amount of work for the Fleet, backlogged because of the time her lab had been preempted by the baron’s special project. Fortunately, her regular staff returned refreshed and invigorated from their extended paid vacations, courtesy of the baron, and their productivity was up almost twenty per cent right when she needed it most. BioCom had recently received a mountain of orders for biological computer systems of all types, intended to function as the brains of a plethora of shipboard systems of all types, as well as controls used on fighters.

  Even after initial public resistance to the introduction of biological computers in general had finally been overcome, their usage on weapons systems continued to be controversial on purely moral grounds, as the court system had yet to make a final ruling as to whether or not bio-computers were actually “alive.” BioCom and its competitors continued manufacturing them, their legality based on an initial lower-court ruling that had labeled them as “zoetic entities.” This meant that while they were animately existent and mimicked true life forms in that they possessed awareness, it had yet to be proven to the court’s satisfaction they met any of the accepted definitions of “sentient life,” and were therefore classified in much the same category as amoeba.

  The baron’s unexpected preempting of her lab had put many orders badly behind schedule… not that Noreen was complaining. It was his special project that had provided her the opportunity to meet Diet, and for that, she was more than willing to put up with the headaches of production delays and bitchy customers. Her time with Diet had been the happiest of her life. He was a study in contrasts… strong, yet gentle… brilliant, yet naïve… worldly, yet innocent. Diet was a total enigma that she planned to spend her li
fe studying, in the great hope that she ultimately failed to figure him out. Diet was a complete mystery, and she loved him, just that way.

  * * * *

  The Planet Kitty Litter

  October 10th, 3865

  After the exchange of rings, the chaplain continued: “May this couple be prepared to continue to give, be able to forgive, and experience more and more joy with each passing day, with each passing year. Ben Stillman and Dorothy Fletcher are now beginning their married life together. We hope that they may have loving assistance from their family, the constant support of friends, and a long life with good health and everlasting love.

  Inasmuch as Ben and Dorothy have consented to live forever together in wedlock, and have witnessed the same before this company... having given and pledged their troth each to the other, and having declared same by the giving and receiving of a ring — by the power vested in me by the Confederate Fleet and the Central Government of the Confederate Stellar Accord, I now pronounce you, husband and wife.

  “You may now kiss the bride.”

  An enthusiastic cheer thundered throughout the entire congregation of over 10,000, as Ben and Dorothy shared their first truly public kiss, recorded for posterity and also for rebroadcast on over 70 human worlds. When they finally broke apart, both wearing radiant smiles, the chaplain concluded:

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my proud honor and duty to introduce to you… Admiral and Mrs. Benjamin Stillman!”

  Another resounding cheer reverberated throughout the congregation. Uniform caps by the thousands sailed skyward in raucous tribute to the happy couple, who both literally glowed with happiness. The cheering continued as Dorothy retrieved her bouquet from Admiral Thorn and blindly threw it over her right shoulder, towards a predominantly female section of the audience.

 

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