by Jim Rudnick
"Captain Scott, yes?" he said quietly as more bodies were added to the corpse lineup.
"Um ... Sachem, I need to know what just happened ..."
"Simple to see," he said as he swept an arm toward the bodies on the floor, "our ship was invaded, and we fought back. We killed them all. This is our ship. We are Ikarians." Hassun nodded and then went to walk the complete line of corpses. He looked at each one, made the sign of respect to each, and then moved along one by one.
"Kikinamagan Nibin, you will gather up a group of Kikinamagans and please take these bodies to the aft garbage port and dispose of same," he said quietly.
"Sachem, please ... with all due respect, could we ask—could the Navy request that we photograph each of these Novertagians before you, uh, you dispose of them? Plus I would ask that all the PDAs for all officers above lieutenants be stripped off each body and held for us to tender to the Navy Admiralty over on Juno?" Tanner was trying to be respectful, but he knew that he would need all the evidence he could muster for what would be one hell of a RIM Council meeting.
Hassun stared at Tanner and then nodded his assent.
"Our ship is returned to us, to Ikaria, so yes, we will comply with that request, Captain. Our thanks as always and our respect as well," he said as the back of his right hand pressed against his forehead for quite a few seconds.
"Thank you, Sachem. I will retrieve those items from you later in the evening. XO," he said loudly, and Craig appeared at his side.
"XO, get Lieutenant Saunders over here to get photos of each corpse ... make sure that he gets full facials as well as uniform insignias and rank ribbons too. They gotta be well done, as I'm going to have to tender them to the admiral, and he'll pass them along to the Council—so do a great job, tell him. Plus pick up their PDAs from Sachem Hassun too up in the Administration offices, make copies to the Marwick SAN, and then send them all off on an FTL probe to Juno—quickest possible trajectory too. I want it on its way in less than an hour ..." Tanner said and wondered where his thermos might have gone to but didn't worry about it now. Scotch would have to wait, he thought as he watched the Barony EliteGuards circle the Lady and all leave together filing toward the lifts.
Tanner looked around the room, and other than an upturned chair or two and that line of dead bodies that was slowly dwindling as they were all being moved aft, there was little evidence of the major firefight that had just occurred. He did note that each of the bodies was first stripped of the arrows that had delivered death ... most of them had two or three all centered in the heart area of the chest. He also noted that each was taken off the bodies and put in a separate pile on the floor that had a small pool of blood around the arrows tips.
After a quick count, he turned and saw Sachem Ahanu coming into the Chamber, and he moved over to talk to him.
"Sachem, my sympathies over these circumstances," he said and waved over toward the lineup of bodies.
"No need, Captain. We are just so sorry that it took quite a few minutes to retake the bridge and their landing breach areas too before we could get down here to the Chamber, but there were only six of us and almost ninety of them. Still, as Ikarians, we did as we always do, we prevailed," he finished off and motioned to other Ikarians to help with the few remaining bodies.
"Oh, Captain, after we took the bridge, we also notified the Drozir, the Novertag ship, that we had just beaten back their invasion, and the Drozir went to your 'FTL' and disappeared. I thought you should know, Captain." He turned and went out the large open doorway to the lift area and other duties.
Tanner watched as the last few bodies were loaded on a dolly and moved out of the room and then aft.
With the Drozir now gone, the ArmyOps landing craft were still out there, and he wondered what to do about them. He reminded himself it was that exact issue that would go so well with the Scotch and the treadmill back on the Marwick. He grinned to himself as he assembled his team and left the Keshowse for the last time.
#
The admiral banged his desk, and Tanner thought he could feel it all these light-years away from Juno. The EYES ONLY had been pretty much all a rant by the admiral after Tanner had told him what had just happened with the Novertag raid on the Keshowse. It had taken only a minute or two to pass along the current state of affairs, and he'd done so calmly, leaving out no details but emphasizing that there were no casualties for RIM Navy or Barony personnel. Nor Ikarians either, he added.
Even though his Ready Room was small, the echoing of the admiral’s pounding on his desktop made it sound like a huge drum, and Tanner wondered if the bridge crew just next door could hear it.
"Goddamnit, Captain, what the hell were the Novertagians thinking on—why in the world would they have attempted such a seizure?" he barked and emphasized again with a desktop pounding.
Tanner shrugged and said quietly, "I really have no idea, Admiral ... surely they could have just filed some kind of an appeal with the RIM Council without any loss of life ..."
"Exactly, except for this Goddamn longevity virus which I'd suppose drove them to this kind of unwarranted attempt ... and good for the Ikarians too ... as these ArmyOps guys had you all covered."
"Fastest firefight I've ever seen, Sir. From the first arrow to the last, it didn't take more than a bit more than fifteen seconds, I'd guess ... and other than us all trying to help, silent too. These Ikarians are some ferocious warriors, and on a side-note, we should recruit them for admissions at the RIM Navy college, Sir ..."
The Navy took anyone who wanted to apply, regardless of human or alien—all one needed was the passion to be a Navy man and the ability to get through the three-year course too. And if the Ikarians ever wanted to truly become RIM citizens, then their ability to have some of their people within the Navy would be a good thing, Tanner thought.
The admiral nodded his head.
"Your in-bound probe has all the evidence of same, I take it, Captain?" he said as he looked down at something on his desk.
"Sir, yes, Sir," Tanner said quietly.
"Fine, I'm sending the destroyer the Wyoming, under Captain Bellanie—she's off Abstract—what like eight light-years off your position—she's to help maintain some degree of normalcy I'd say. You're still in charge, Captain, but no more surprises, got that?"
"Sir, we were as surprised by the Novertag incursion and attempted seizure ourselves, but we will be more than vigilant from now on—as I suspect the Barony will as well, Sir," Tanner said.
The admiral leaned back and toyed with something on his desk, thinking on something that he did not share. Then he nodded.
"Captain, I'm sure we'll hear lots more on this from the Baroness, and yes, the Lady St. August as well. Your job is to simply 'babysit' the situation. No one is allowed any access to the Keshowse, nor for that matter, the whole area, as I want it policed by armed shuttle-craft until the Wyoming arrives.
"Further, the Novertagians will be notified by me that they are to stay off the area until the next RIM Council meeting.
"Further, you are to ensure that no further harm comes to any of our Navy personnel, the Barony personnel, and the Ikarians too, of course.
"Lastly, once the final group of Ikarians is loaded into the Barony transport ships you are to follow along and take an inspector tour of Throth. That report will be on my desk as soon as possible—have you got it, Captain?" he finished off starting directly at Tanner, his face solemn.
"Sir, yes, Sir," Tanner added, "and I'm sure that this can be handled, Sir."
The admiral stared at him.
"Ensure that happens, Captain, or you'll end up running the shuttle ferry from Faraway down to their moon. Dismissed," he added as the screen went black. Tanner now leaned back and thought on what had just occurred and what warriors the Ikarians were. Under all that pastoral, nomadic exterior were the quickest marksmen he'd ever seen—more than forty dead ArmyOps soldiers in less than twenty seconds. He wondered if Throth—in fact if the RIM itself—was ready for their
new tenancy, and he was glad that at least at this point, it was the Baroness’s problem.
He hoisted his glass back up to his lips and thought about much but not for long as he knew he had the chore of those shuttle policing duty rosters to get arranged. He nodded as he remembered his XO could do wonders. He nodded again after another swig and sighed ... time to get back to work he supposed.
#
The Lady St. August tried to stand up to her mother, the Baroness, once more.
"Baroness, this is really not my fault. You know and yes, I know too, that the Novertag ArmyOps attempt at seizure could not have been foreseen. We, like all the others on board, were caught unawares that they would ever try such a ploy, and I know that you will make the most of this at the upcoming RIM Council meeting," she added knowingly. If it was one thing that the Baroness loved above all others, it was the politicking that occurred at those meetings—and this next one was sure to be a doozy!
The Baroness nodded. "Yes, Lady, I understand about what will need to happen at the upcoming meeting, but you're not to worry about such goings-on. Your job was—and still is—to remain as the official Barony representative out there. You will continue to test and to help the Ikarians on the surface, but to also find us a way to get that longevity virus. What is the status of that currently?" she asked, and Helena could see that was the real import of the EYES ONLY back to Neres.
"Ma’am, our best scientists think that we can somehow do just that—and yes, it's from our ... our child Sleeper that we, um, we acquired, Ma’am," Helena said and noted that this did bring a smile to her stepmother's face.
"Good, push that at all costs." The Baroness shook her head.
"No more mistakes, Lady. Keep an eye on everything and ensure that when our ships arrive, get the Ikarians on their way to Throth. Understood?" Her eyes stared directly at her stepdaughter and, she received a nodding assent back from Helen.
Half an hour later, the Lady was again alone after having short meetings with her captain, her Provost General, and even the head of her EliteGuards had been read the riot act. All were aware that after the Novertag ArmyOps incident, their futures depended upon no more incidents of any kind.
She got up off her Ready Room chair and went to the large view-port to stare out once more at the Keshowse. She could see welding arcs from repairs to their aft areas where the Novertagians had cut through the hull and the shuttles that carried support crew and staff. Over on the port side of the Sterling, the Marwick lay with its own shuttle-craft winking in the distance as it also policed the whole area. Peering back and to starboard, she could see the Novertag sun and wondered what kind of defense they would be mounting at the next RIM Council meeting. She was glad for once that the job of handling the Barony fortunes there lay with the Baroness.
Epilogue…
About a light-year and a bit off Novertag, an escape pod drifted freely in space. Its single bright orange light normally pulsing all around the top and bottom of the seven-foot shell had been turned off. It slowly spiraled to port making a single revolution in about a minute, which as its overall slow speed meant little to its heading or trajectory. Aft of it was outward toward the RIM as it drifted inward towards the galaxy as still as stone giving no audio or Ansible broadcast or pings.
Made to help anyone who needed to escape a ship, it was not much more than a sealed steel shell, with AI that controlled the air regeneration and its cryonic ability to put anyone inside into full sleeper mode. It was made to help its cargo live for as long as it took to find rescue, but in this case, with no exterior lighting, with its beacons turned off, and with a slow speed, it would be difficult to find the pod, which was what the sender intended.
A long black shadow fell on the pod, moving across its short length, but then it slowed as if it knew the pod was there, and it came to a full stop just a thousand yards away. Moments later, a cargo shuttle left the unidentified ship and pulled alongside the pod, and their greenish tractor beam shot out of the shuttle, turned, and aligned the pod with its now open small cargo bay. It took only a few more minutes to manhandle the pod into the narrow cargo space, and once inside and moored, a crewman stepped up to the faceplate and looked to the officer there for a nod.
The nod received, the crewman took a port scraper to the large glass port that was frosted over and worked the scraper back and forth until one could look inside to see the sleeping occupant. He backed up and nodded back to the officer in charge.
Stepping up, the officer looked down at the sleeper and nodded one last time as he brought up his PDA to his lips.
"Acknowledged, Sir ... it's one of them," was all he said and he stepped back.
Inside the pod, staring back at him, was the face of a child with jet-black hair and a half-smile on his sleeping face ... a face of a child who would sleep until awoken...
Prologue for Book Three of the RIM Confederacy
. . . due out in the fall of 2015 . . .
“Loading over there…” the guard in the Station Provost uniform said and pointed back to the left. In front of him, about twenty or so very tall immigrants shuffled aside as the one in the front of them had to sidestep towards the large conveyor belt to tote his goods over there.
“Next…” the bored guard said as he checked his tablet display and then counted off the heads in front of him.
“18….19…19? Where’s 20” he asked and no one in front of him answered.
“Twenty? Where’s the last person on this docket?” he barked out and from the rear of the long large lineup in front of him, a young woman pushed and moved others out of her way and ended up in front of the guard.
“Here! I’m here – sorry I was handling the dolly with our exotics and trying to remind the customs fellow that they’re clearly marked NO XRAY….but yes, sorry, I’m here,” she finished and then stood quietly in front of the guard.
“And I take it you’re in charge, right Mam?” the guard said dryly.
“I am,” she said, “the Countess Tibah al-Rashid, of Olbia in the Caliphate realm and you will not address me as ‘mam’ either” she said back, just as dryly but as a Royal from her it counted.
“Um…Highness, I am so so sorry,” the guard stammered and half bowed as he waved his arm with a flutter to call over help. Springing up beside him a squad of other guards suddenly appeared and they quickly moved from immigrant candidate to the next one, filling out the forms on their own tablets. You could see he wanted to ask why a Countess – a Royal would in fact be an immigrant farmer to this planet but you could tell he knew better too.
“Highness, you mentioned some kind of ‘exotic’ items…?” he said and she smiled down at him from the full six and half feet of her stature.
“Yes, that is exactly what I said, Provost. We are importing a selection of our exotic vegetable seeds in their insular containers – and they cannot be x-rayed! You may want to search them all by hand of course but no gene altering x-rays will be allowed – just as your own Halberd statues command,” she said quietly and pointed back along that far wall to the more than a dozen large tanks of purported seeds. They both walked over to the first tank and the guard looked it over, hefted it in his two hands and nodded.
“Feels like lightweight contents, seeds I’d suppose…so yeah, no x-rays needed. You have….um…” he said as he glanced at his tablet, “13 cases….yes, I see they’re all here. Corporal Stevenson, mark these all as PASS and ship ‘em out,” he finished and then turned back to the Countess.
“Umm…Countess – I see that you’ve chosen the river lowlands as the site for your new farm from the available land bank – might I suggest that you re-consider?” he said and looked up at her.
From her taller vantage point she stared down at him, her jet black hair framing her quite pretty face and then smiled at him.
“I appreciate your concern, Provost…ah…Provost Sergeant, but this was the choice made by us – the farmers of course, but also by our scientists as we have need of that soft l
oamy soil for our new specialized vegetables.” She nodded to him and was about to leave to pass by the exit gate here at the Andros EL station when he interrupted her once more.
“Not a problem, Countess…but a gentle reminder that the river often floods in spring and that can cause some major erosion….so I’d plant as far off from the river line as you can…” he finished and nodded to her once again.
“No need then for us to worry, is there?” she answered and then flowed around him and smiling at him, Countess Tibah waved her peers to follow her and they all moved through the gates and towards the EL pod, a yellow one that lay ahead. Four of her compatriots helped load those seed tanks on board and then they all took seats as passengers. Tibah made her way up the center aisle and spoke succinctly to the pod AI.
“Pod AI…please take us to…Jeremy what is the geoPOS?
From the rear another immigrant moved up to stand beside her, searching on his wrist mounted PDA and then he spoke up.
“We’re at 17 Riverrun Road, AI…take us there,” and the pod slowly pulled out into traffic at the front entrance of the Andros EL station. All of the new-to-Halberd ex-Olbians oohed and ahhed as the pod moved out into the traffic on Andros. Along the boulevard, other cars and trucks were making their way and occasionally they passed other pods too – usually the yellow ones but once and awhile a black one went by and that was enough for one of the children to pipe up.
“AI…why are some pods yellow and some black?” the youngster asked.
