Metal Boxes - Rusty Hinges

by Alan Black

  Stone had been asked more than once why the navy hadn’t done a complete overhaul before sending them out.

  He always passed along Butcher’s answer when he’d asked the same question, “Two reasons. Allie’s World doesn’t have complete overhaul facilities. Sending Rusty Hinges to Lazzaroni Station would increase the likelihood that word might get back to the enemy that we were building a Q-Ship. Further, strategic considerations always outweigh our tactical issues. High command and the emperor himself wants this war ended as soon as it can be. That’s why we’re pressing on rather than taking the opportunity to head home. We must find the Hyrocanian home world or at least find what they might be using as a base within a few jumps of human space.”

  It all made sense until he had to pull his boots back on in the middle of a sleep cycle. The dataport beeping reached a painful decibel before he finally shut it off and answered, “Ensign Stone here.”

  “Sorry to disturb you, Ensign. This is main deck hatch security. We have a problem down here.”

  Stone clicked on the video display. He saw a chief petty officer he recognized, but didn’t know by name. Behind him stood a fireteam of armed marines, braced at the ready. He doubted the marines were necessary to repel boarders. The native piglets were so bent on harmony that they steadfastly refused to take the last biscuit at a buffet, leaving it in hopes it would bless the next person more than it would have blessed them. Attacking an armed ship would have been out of character. It wouldn’t be out of character for their own piglet pirate and a few of his mates, but those few dozen piglets had open access to the ship.

  Still, Numos had assigned teams of marines at every entrance on round the clock watch, more to give them something to do than real security. Stone could see on the faces of the marines that they hated busywork as much as he did.

  “What watch is it, Chief?”

  “Third watch, sir.”

  “Did you call third watch commander?”

  “Yes, sir. Major Numos is on his way. He said to call you to the hatch and have you bring one of your dragons.”

  “Drascos, Chief. Dragons are mythical Old Earth creatures. These are drascos, intelligent creatures from Allie’s World.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Stone could hear the “whatever” tone in the man’s voice. He decided to ignore it. “I’ll be down on the double.”

  He stepped over Peebee who was lying stretched out in front of the door to his shed. She rolled her eyes up at him without moving her head. “Peebee, do you want to come with me?” Jay was stretched out in the grass, asleep on her back with her feet stuck in the air. None of the daughters were anywhere in sight.

  “Where are we going, Mama?” she asked.

  “Just down a couple of decks to the main hatch.”

  “Should I call my girls?”

  “Where are Tee, Ell, and Bea?”

  “Hammer and Rainne are running night training on ship to ship boarding. Hammer is attacking, so my girls joined his team. Rainne is defending so Emily, Anne, and Charlotte are with them. Hammer will win with my girls.”

  Jay rolled over as they walked past. Shaking like a wet dog, a shiver beginning at her head rolled down her neck, across her body and ended with a little tail quiver. “He won’t win. My girls are better defenders than your daughters are at attacking.” Following along behind Stone and Peebee she added, “Hammer is hampered with drascos on his team. He has to use shuttles to breach the hull. He can’t jump and scatter. Ell, Tee, and Bea don’t have space suits.”

  Peebee nodded. “We don’t breathe like humans. We can breathe lots of stuff, but we have to have something to breathe. We could hold our breath long enough to jump and breach a hull, but Tee and Ell can only hold their breath for four or five minutes. But once they shuttle across, they will be tough for Rainne to stop.”

  Jay rumpled, hooted and finally wonked her disapproval. “No. Charlotte is the one to watch. Emily is smarter than she let’s on. If they work together, they can beat your daughters.”

  Peebee spun her head around, but didn’t stop walking next to Stone. “Want to bet?”

  “Deal. A full bar of ooze.”

  Peebee wonked excitedly as they crowded into a ladderway, taking the steps down three or four at a time. “Deal, but only for which team of drascos comes out on top. Hammer will win the exercise.”

  Jay wonked, “Of course, Hammer will win. No one can beat our Hammer.”

  Once on the right deck, Stone picked up his pace. Instead of a stately walk, he sprinted down the corridor. He could smell the humans long before he reached the hatch. The lemony scent of concern was easy to pick up. The fragrance of grapefruit and lime was absent. There was concern, but no fear.

  Skidding to a stop at the rear of the assembled marine security fireteam, he was hit from behind when Peebee didn’t stop fast enough. Neither did Jay and they sprawled into a pile at the feet of the marines. The fireteam of four was facing the main hatch. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they blocked the main corridor access to the ship. Their weapons were held at the ready, but Stone could see from his position on the floor that they held their weapons lightly as if unconcerned about whatever the chief petty officer had called about.

  Corporal Tuttle turned, laughed, and held out her bio-mechanical hand. Stone grabbed the hand, using it as a brace to pull himself to his feet.

  “Graceful, Ensign. Really awe inspiring to the troops!”

  Stone shook his head and slapped her on the shoulder with good humor. “Thank you, Barb. We’ve been working on that move for months.”

  “I got some moves you could practice on.” She leered at him and gave a comical wiggle of her eyebrows. “Sir.”

  “Thanks, Corporal. I’ll see what Allie thinks about that.”

  “I’ll ask if you don’t. Maybe she’ll give me a note that it’s okay to practice a little slap and tickle on her boyfriend.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

  “You’ll have to get that note countersigned by me, Barb.”

  She grabbed her heart in feigned pain. “Oh, you’re going to kill me, sir. I know you two have an exclusive thing going, but if you’re that stuck, why haven’t you made an honest woman of her?”

  “That’s a question for a later time.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  Tuttle sighed, “Why a different time? This little dust up ain’t nothing to get concerned about.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder at the direction of the hatch. “Somebody, and I ain’t saying who, just got a bug up his butt about something. Shorty and some of his team are there and they ain’t in any rush, Boss.”

  Stone turned to Jay and Peebee. “Why don’t you girls go on and talk to Shorty. See what’s going on.” He turned back to Tuttle. “My life isn’t that easy, Barb.”

  “It never is, sir.”

  “Really, what can I do? You know about my family.”

  Tuttle snorted. “Your family or your money? Look, sir, you know by now that LT Vedrian isn’t after your money. If that worries you, use the pre-nup. Hell, she’s already gotten one written up and signed. If you’re worried about your family, so what? Your parents like her, so who else matters?”

  “What do you mean my parents like her?”

  “Oh, she didn’t tell you? Well, ain’t my place to say, sir.”

  “I could order you to tell me.”

  Tuttle gave his shoulder a little shove, sending him toward the hatch. “It’s strange that you still think that. Why do you think I’m still a corporal?”

  Before moving more than a few steps, he turned and said, “I thought you’re still a corporal because of your extra-curricular activities as the unofficial morale NCO.”

  “Get on with you now, sir, before you embarrass me in front of my own team.”

  The three marines with her laughed as if it was impossible to be embarrassed by anything their corporal could do.

  Stone turned back and said, “Chief, what is th
e issue that’s so difficult to handle that you had to get me out of a nice warm bed?”

  “Ensign Stone, these aliens want to bring equipment aboard that doesn’t have a manifest.”

  Stone rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Manifest? What kind of ship do you think we’re on?”

  “Navy, sir. Human navy.”

  Stone said, “Chief, we’re navy, but look around you. You’ve got marines at your back standing security watch on a captured Hyrocanian ship.”

  “Yes, sir, about that. Isn’t it a violation of regulations to have a marine officer as a watch commander on a navy ship?”

  “Chief, that is the point I’m trying to make. This ship isn’t your typical navy ship. We have navy, marines, drascos, and piglets on a bastardized Hyrocanian ship. Our plan is to pretend to be an enemy ship and get close enough to them to obtain valid intelligence.”

  “Sir, I understand that. The sniffer alarms went off when these creatures tried to bring their cargo on board. Lieutenant Missimaya was telling a bunch of us the other day that we’re all going to get court-marshaled for sharing human tech with an alien species. That is, if the aliens don’t kill us in our sleep first, sir.”

  “What did your sniffers find?”

  “Traces of explosives, sir.

  “Traces, Chief?”

  “Not enough to be a bomb or anything, but enough to set off the alarms. Maybe they’re bringing on a device, but plan on getting the explosives from our own armory. You know those creepy little aliens are all over the ship. They get into everything, running through the vents. Lieutenant Missimaya said they could use the vents to take over the ship, sir.”

  Stone left the chief standing at the main hatch and walked up to Shorty. “May I see what you’re bringing aboard?”

  Shorty shrugged. “Sure, Boss. We never said he couldn’t.” He pointed one of his three tiny fingers at the chief. He gestured for some of his team to open the crates they were attempting to dolly into the hatch. “He said we’ve got to have a manifest. I’ve wiped my ass with more manifests than that toad has ever seen. I’m a pirate these days, remember? I don’t do paperwork.” Jay translated and managed to get a tone of disgust to match his words. “Your doorman hates us because we aren’t human. He doesn’t like your drascos any better.”

  Stone thought back to his first navy assignment. “I’m not saying paperwork is a bad thing, but I had a batch once that almost got me killed, but without it, people would have continued robbing and stealing.”

  Shorty pointed a finger at his own chest. “Rob and steal? Pirate, remember?” He shook his head. “We could have gotten this equipment on the ship without anyone ever knowing it was here. We’re not trying to hide anything bringing it through the main hatch. This is equipment we need, considering where we are going.”

  The sides of the first crate fell open. Stone gawked at the racks of piglet sized combat suits. They were obviously designed after a marine combat suit. They would double the size of a piglet, with weapons bristling from every angle. They didn’t appear to have a camouflage element like the marines, but the suits were a flat black that would work well in the dark of space or in a dimly lit ship.

  Numos walked past Stone. Stone hadn’t heard him approach. “Are these causing the issue, Ensign Stone? They appear to be nothing more than EVA suits.”

  “Major, the automated sniffers detected explosives.”

  Shorty replied through Jay, “Well, we did test fire them. Wouldn’t you?”

  Numos nodded, “I wouldn’t get into a suit that hadn’t been put through its paces.”

  “Exactly.” Shorty said. “We have the equipment and base components to build our ammunition, but our jump into Hyrocanian space will take about three months, so we plan on making our own supplies as we go.”

  Numos looked at Stone, “Ensign?”

  “Sir, apparently the sniffers picked up explosive residue on the suits. I see no reason not to allow our allies to pass with their equipment intact, but I would like a demonstration of their suit capabilities as soon as possible.”

  Numos grinned. “I agree. I know my officers will be excited to have new toys to play with.”

  Shorty waved his team past the chief; their loaders bringing in crate after crate of supplies. He watched for a moment and then said through Jay. “Boss, I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed your new suit and we copied a few pieces to modify our suits.”

  Stone looked shocked. “You took my combat suit?”

  Shorty said, “Sure, why not? We put it back when we were done.

  He had a special new suit sent by his family when he was governor, back when he could wear anything he wanted and not worry about the different odd bits. The special suit Grandpa had built for him would put even a marine suit to shame, but he was trying to fit in and learn, not stand out. He hadn’t mentioned the new suit to anyone except Allie, although he was sure many people around him knew about it.

  Shorty said, “We didn’t figure out everything on your suit yet. I know you haven’t spent much more time in that combat suit than we’ve spent in our new model suits. Still, as different as it is, it does look like a normal navy suit … almost.”

  Stone nodded, “Well, I am navy, remember?”

  Shorty replied, “You’re more pirate than squid, Boss. Better get used to being a little different. Oh, by the way, I have approval from that old ass-bag of a brother of mine. We can jump anytime, so you have about three months to get used to your new suit before we jump into enemy controlled space.”

  Stone kept his voice low so the sound didn’t carry. “Jumping in isn’t a worry. We need to gather intel. Intelligence doesn’t do us any good unless we can get back home alive with it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Stone sat in his regular seat next to Whizzer at the bridge conference table. He tried to look nonchalant, but was having trouble prying his fingers off the arms of the chair. Whizzer and Emmons didn’t look any less nervous. The tension across the bridge and throughout Rusty Hinges was more than palpable for Stone. For the past few hours the odor of citrus was almost overpowering.

  The scent of lime eased slightly when Butcher ordered general quarters. Giving the average spacer something to do, something they were familiar with, common duties, eased their sense of fear and caution about the impending jump into Hyrocanian held space. Stone wished his general quarters duty was where he could be doing something, but Butcher continued to want him on the bridge as an advisor, where he sat with nothing to do.

  Butcher didn’t have a red stripe on his trousers, never having commanded a navy ship in combat. Stone believed the captain should have received it for his actions while commanding the Hyrocanian shuttle when they captured Rusty Hinges. The navy disagreed. Their refusal stated that the shuttle was an enemy vessel, not UEN, although it was under human command at the time with Butcher at the controls. They’d also pointed out that the shuttle was actually commandeered by Governor Stone acting in a civilian capacity and no formal or informal change of command ceremony had taken place. There was confusion in the after action reports as to who had really been in command, Stone, Butcher, Major Numos, or as some suggested, no one specific individual was in control, it happened as command by committee.

  Stone doubted Butcher was jealous about the red stripe, just as he was sure other officers were. LTSG Missimaya had been vocal about the award more than once, stating that Stone was nothing but a jumped up ensign junior grade and wouldn’t be where he was without his family’s money and influence. Stone hadn’t said so, but he thought it was the fire calling the flame hot, since Missimaya appeared to be under qualified to manage the human waste systems — constantly requiring senior enlisted help to get him out of trouble. The master chief laughed it off, saying that was what senior NCOs were for.

  Thomas pointed out that Captain Butcher might want Stone on the bridge because of the stripe, not in spite of it. The man was not foolish enough to disregard any possible advice from a combat certi
fied commander over petty jealousy about a fancy geegaw on a uniform.

  The only two people on the bridge who didn’t appear nervous were Major Numos, seated across from Stone, and Ell, lying on the floor behind him. The drasco’s shiny metal armor wasn’t any less perfectly polished than the brass on Numos’s uniform.

  No human knew the piglets better than Stone, but he still had difficulty reading their facial expressions. He thought Shorty would be calm as ice, but the little guy kept fiddling with his sunglasses like a nervous twitch.

  Seated in his command chair, Butcher’s voice carried across the bridge. “Settle down people. We’ve been practicing this insertion for the three months we’ve been in hyperspace. We know what we’re doing. Just remember to think like you’re a Hyrocanian.”

  Shorty snorted. “I would, but I’m not that hungry.”

  The reference to the Hyrocanian’s practice of eating flesh while their victim was still alive, especially piglets, caused a brief spate of nervous laughter across the bridge. It was slightly delayed as Stone relayed the translation of Shorty’s comment from Ell, the current piglet translator.

  Butcher said, “Doctor Wyznewski, are you ready?”

  Wyznewski looked at Emmons.

  She nodded back.

  He said, “Yes, Commander Butcher. We have hundreds of optional replies to dozens of possible inquiries ready. Assuming we find the Hyrocanians and they challenge us, we should be able to answer any query.” He patted a small portable console in front of him.

  Butcher nodded, “XO, are you ready?” Butcher turned up the sound on his dataport.

  Everyone on the bridge heard Gupta’s response. “The shuttle is prepped and the engines hot. You give the command and we’re gone.” There was a tiny pause in the XOs voice. “Sir, I …”

  Everyone waited for the XO to complain once again about being the safety valve, but the man didn’t finish. If the excrement hit the fan, his job was to jump back through the piglet’s system and dash for the navigation point to Allie’s World. Someone had to get what intelligence they’d already gathered back to the UEN.