Warborg - Star Panther

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Warborg - Star Panther Page 21

by Olson, Ry


  The communications system alert sounded and a message popped up asking him to call his father. It was from Will. He directed the call.

  “Hi dad,” Martin greeted when his father came on the vidphone.

  “Martin.” His father looked sad, and a little angry with a tinge of concern. “Why didn’t you tell me about your accident?”

  “Ahhh . . .” Martin sputtered.

  “Will and Angel told me about your being a cyborg, Martin, why didn’t you?”

  Martin felt a pain in his chest. “I’m so sorry dad, I just didn’t know what to say . . . how to tell you. I’m sorry.”

  “Dammit, Martin.” His father sighed and the anger vanished. “Are you ok son?”

  “Yeah dad, I really am.” Martin spoke quietly. “To be honest it was really tough at first. But I’ve got a new life and some great new friends.” Martin offered his father a weak smile. “It’s a good life father, it’s totally different than what I had before, but it’s a good life.” Martin mentally braced himself. “How’s mom?”

  His father seemed to fade. “She died early this morning, Martin.” His voice was a coarse whisper.

  “Oh God.” Martin pinched his lips and fought a losing battle with his tears, his stomach felt like a shot put. “I’m so sorry, so very very sorry dad. Are you ok?”

  “It’s all right Martin, your mom and I had a beautiful life together. Enough love for a lifetime and a half.” His father seemed stoic. “She was sick for a long time son, longer than we even know. I think she’s found her peace.”

  Martin just nodded in agreement.

  “Will tells me you’re trying to come home.” Martin’s father gave him a questioning look. “He also tells me you can’t do that . . . you’ll get in serious trouble if you get caught.”

  Martin forced a little smile. “Some things have changed, I can come visit.” He sagged a little. “If you want me to.”

  His father studied him for a moment. “I guess I have to ask; What do you mean visit?” He looked a little dour. “I mean I can’t exactly have a space fighter parked on the front lawn.” Suddenly his eyes sparkled and the big loose grin that Martin always remembered covered his face. “All though it would be a riot to hear Shirley squawk about it.”

  “Oh my God, is she still living across the street?” Martin laughed.

  “Yeah, and still as big a pain in the arse as ever.” He rolled his eyes and mimicked; “Your lawn’s too long. Your dog’s barking. Your children shouldn’t be playing in the street. I’m constipated, and it has to be your fault.”

  Martin was roaring with laughter. This was the man he called dad growing up and came to respect when he was older.

  “I just don’t know how your mother could . . .” The voice and the smile faded.

  Martin felt a pang of sorrow for his father then smiled. “Hey dad, I bet Shirley is still looking for a new hubby.”

  A look of horror passed over his father’s face. “Wash your mouth out with soap,” he commanded then shuddered, “no eat the whole bar.” His eyes conveyed a silent thanks as he laughed.

  “Seriously dad, I’m in a self contained canister about the size of a trash can. It’s got wheels and the whole bit.” Martin sized up his father. “The question is; would you be comfortable seeing me like this?”

  “I don’t think it would bother me, it would have really upset your mother. But the idea just doesn’t seem to affect me much.” Martin’s father shrugged. “Maybe it’s a guy thing. It bothers Angel a lot more than your brother.”

  “Well, ok dad. I’m six days out and going like hell.”

  His father smiled but the voice was sad. “Do you want us to wait on your mom’s memorial service until you get here?”

  “Yes, I really would. If you don’t think it would upset the others.” Martin replied, holding out an olive branch.

  His father gave him a soft smile. “Piss on the other’s. My son’s coming home.”

  The simple honesty of the statement took Martin’s breath away. “Thank you, dad. I should let you go, I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Way too true.” His father nodded with a sad smile.

  “Love ya dad.”

  His father smiled. “Love you too . . . my little tin soldier.” He winked and faded from the screen.

  Martin heaved a sigh and unconsciously checked his ship’s systems. Prowler and he had tweaked the FTL system the best they could. In reality we’re hauling ass, probably as fast as any human ship could go, it’s just going to take time.

  He went back to studying the intelligence reports. There were only two hot spots, back with his group and around the Merced system. Everywhere else was quiet. The Merced battle is getting bigger and uglier by the day. Martin thought. Both sides are pouring assets into the area. He gave a tight smile. So the Federation brain trust is finally bringing in warborgs . . . about time. “I wonder if they’re taking the Koth killer ships into account?” He mused and pulled up a wide view of the Merced system with the locations of the Federation forces displayed. He smiled when he saw they were scattered all over the system, a killer ship would be tactically problematic, but far from a disaster. He winked at Prowler. “Our boy Silverberg is nobodies fool.”

  . . .

  Two days later Prowler jumped on to Martin’s lap and started head butting him under the chin for attention. “Ok, ok,” Martin laughed, vigorously scratching Prowler’s ears. “Show me what you got.”

  A display came to life on a side console. Martin turned and studied it for several seconds. “The canister? My canister could fire an interceptor pulse . . . but not the Panther.” How bizarre is that. “Ahhh, I see the stability problem, since the canister fires an FTL pulse anyway, that doesn’t matter.” Martin smiled and shrugged. “What the heck, load in the profile. Ya never know.” He winked at Prowler. “I don’t suppose you’ve been playing with the subspace depth charge pulse.” Prowler chirruped and blinked. “Why you little deviate.” Martin laughed and hugged Prowler as he nuzzled his ear.

  34: The Homecoming

  Four manned strike fighters appeared in a loose formation next to Martin’s canister. They hung in space silently evaluating Martin’s ‘ship’. “I don’t believe it, that’s a designated vessel?” An incredulous voice sputtered over the short range communication system. The squad leader checked his Earth approach authorization for Martin. “Ahhh, Major. Where’s the rest of you ship?”

  “Sorry guys, this is all there is.” Martin smiled.

  “Now here’s a real threat to the universe.” Another pilot laughed. “No offense, Major.”

  “None taken.” Then Martin tweaked. “I am one of them damned warborgs, ya know.”

  One of the manned fighters broke formation and did a lazy circle around Martin. “Hey give the guy a break.” A woman’s voice laughed. “Major, I think your ship is cute. Is it really space worthy?”

  Martin smiled, liking this group. “Yes ma’am, it isn’t real fast, but give me enough time and I could row this little guy across the galaxy.”

  “I bet you could,” she laughed.

  The squad leader checked the rest of the authorization. “You’re cleared for approach, Major Morgan,” he hesitated, “and I’m sorry to hear about your mother. You have our condolences.” The other’s mumbled in agreement.

  “Thank you.” Is all that Martin could think to say.

  “Major, I don’t think you require an escort. The authorization says you’re armed, but ahhhh . . .” The squad leader’s voice tapered off.

  Hey now, it’s not the size of the gun . . .” Martin let the statement hang.

  “Men,” the woman pilot guffawed, “you’re all alike. I didn’t know a warborg would still be a perv.”

  “Sorry, Lois.” The squad leader laughed. “It’s genetic. We just can’t help ourselves.” Everyone chuckled as she harrumphed in mock indignation. “Have a nice visit, Major.” The squad leader grew more business like. “Zulu one, out.”

  “Rog
er, and thank you Zulu one. Morgan out.” Martin replied.

  The strike fighters vanished.

  . . .

  “Wow.” The Zulu one squad leader commented as they resumed their patrol. “Did you realize who that was in that little ship thingy? That was THE Major Martin Morgan of the Star Panther.”

  “Oh dear,” Lois fussed. “And I called him a perv.”

  The lone pilot who hadn’t said anything during the encounter with Martin spoke quietly to the others. “Before I rotated back here I was in his battle group. I’ve see The Dancer fight first hand. Believe me; if he wanted to he could have torn us apart, even in that little ship. The man is unreal.”

  They continued their patrol in silence.

  . . .

  Martin sighed after the light fighters disappeared. The sun was still just a very bright star in the distance. Six more hours and I’ll be home. He thought. He checked in with Prowler a day behind him, everything was fine. Martin mentally shook his head. I’ve been hopping along for almost a day, the Star Panther would have come this far in a couple hours. He relaxed. After getting over the initial reaction to just be-bopping along like this, I kind’a like it. I’ve never felt this close to the emptiness.

  . . .

  Martin’s apprehension grew as he made his final decent. He could see Will and his nephew waiting far below waiting in a park a few blocks from his old house. The thrusters on his canister were working perfectly as he dropped. He wondered how long it would be before they could see him. Then his nephew suddenly pointed at him and stared in innocent awe. A minute later he gently touched down several meters away, his thrusters kicking up a small cloud of dust from the parking lot he landed in.

  Several people looked on, then went about there business, small transports came and went constantly. To their eyes he was just another small robotic cargo carrier.

  Will walked up with his son a few steps behind as Martin rolled toward them. “Martin?”

  Martin had rehearsed this moment in his mind for weeks, the solemn greeting of his brother. His first reaction was one of delight, all the apprehension and worry fled. Oh, I can’t stand this. Suddenly he started spinning in place, waving his appendages in the air. “Danger, Will Robinson, danger!”

  Will stopped and his mouth fell open as he stared, his son just looked like he wanted to run as he crowded behind his father. Will’s eyes started to tear a little, then he burst out laughing. “And to think I was worried about how to meet you, gawd you’re still a head case.” Martin stopped his antics. Will smiled until it looked like his face was going to break. He looked down at Martin. “No matter what little bro, it’s still nice to see you.”

  Martin held out an appendage. “Hi Will, you’ll never know how nice it is to see you . . . you too Chris.”

  Will studied the very hand like appendage sticking out, then smiled and shook it.

  “Unc . . . Uncle Martin?” The ten year old stepped out from behind his father.

  “Hi Chris,” Martin greeted holding out his ‘hand’ to his nephew.

  Chris solemnly shook hands with wide eyes. “Hi.” He was fascinated by all the gizmos on Martin’s container, especially the one that could only be a gun . . . a big gun. “Wow!” He whispered in awe letting go of Martin.

  “I’ll tell you all about what everything is later, ok? Right now let’s go home.” Martin coaxed his bright eyed nephew.

  “Too cool.” Chris breathed and proudly led off toward home with his dad and WARBORG uncle following.

  “Will rolled his eyes and looked at Martin. He had a surprised, delighted look when one of Martin’s cameras shuttered shut for a second in an obvious wink. He smiled knowing for the first time everything was going to be all right.

  They traveled in silence for a few minutes as Martin took in the sights and sounds of his old neighborhood. “I never thought I’d get to see this again.” Martin said quietly.

  Will answered with a nod. “Welcome home.”

  Chris broke away in a dead run as they approached Martin’s old house. He bounded up the steps and ran through the door. “Hey everybody, Uncle Martin’s here.” He yelled.

  “Well, so much for a quiet, restrained entrance.” Martin chuckled. They stopped in front of the porch as the family gathered. “Hi everybody.” Martin eyed the steps.

  He was greeted with a general hello. Then his father looked down on him and Will. “Well, come on in.”

  “Ahhh . . . Houston we have a problem.” Martin laughed.

  “What?” His father was confused for a moment. “Oh dang, the steps,” he frowned. “Hell, you can’t weigh that much, Will and I can just lift you.”

  Martin broke out laughing to the consternation of the others. “I don’t believe this,” he groused. “I sneak through Koth space for a month, have a run in with a gazillion Koth warcraft and have to perform a smoke and mirrors act to satisfy about a light year of red tape to get authorized to be here . . . just to be carried up a couple steps.” He studied the steps. “This is just too humidifying.”

  Angel smiled. “Yeah, I guess it is Martin in there. I’d recognize that whiney tone of voice anywhere.” She shook her head. “Or you could come in the side door.”

  Everyone was quiet for a second. “Whiney?” Martin grumped.

  “Shut up, Martin,” His father snickered in mock severity, giving Angel a quick hug of thanks. “Chris, go unlock the door and open the gate.” His grandson scampered off.

  “Whiney?” Martin gazed up at Angel.

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Did you really do all that? I mean the stuff getting here.” She hesitated then asked quietly. “Did you get into any fights?”

  Martin sighed audibly. “Yeah sis, I really did. The details are classified.” He tried to read her eyes before continuing. “I left a pretty big pile of dead Koth ships behind.”

  His father contemplated Martin and Angel as he stepped off the porch and headed around the house with the rest in tow.

  Martin and Angel brought up the rear. “Angel, come see me later.” He asked softly, just loud enough for her to hear. She gave a slight nod.

  . . .

  The house was pretty much the way Martin remembered it, he couldn’t go up stairs to his old room for obvious reasons. They had all settled into the living room when the front door opened.

  “Yoo hoo, anybody home?” Cecil, Will’s wife wandered in. She stopped as she came into the living room and eyed Martin. She strolled over to Martin’s canister and looked it over. “Well, I guess we could throw a table cloth over him with a vase of flowers to make it look right, and he’d fit right in.” Her eyes glittered.

  “Well, I know when I’ve been insulted.” Martin growled.

  Cecil laughed. “Hi’ya Martin, good to have you home kiddoe.”

  Martin smiled. He and Cecil had the same birthday, born just minutes apart. They became good friends in high school, but it was Will she eventually fell in love with and married. Their friendship still had deep long roots. “Thanks, Cec. It’s good to be home.” It is good to be home. Martin thought as Cecil settled into the couch next to Will with his six year old niece, Sammy, snuggled up to Will on the other side and Chris sprawled on the floor at their feet. His dad was slumped in his recliner, it had been there as long as Martin could remember and Angel draped haphazardly in a big easy chair. God, I miss mom. She would have been puttering all over the place. He felt a sad smile.

  . . .

  It was quiet in the house, the kids were asleep in Martin’s old room and everyone else had retired to their same old bedrooms leaving Martin in the corner of the living room. This is nice. Martin thought. Dinner was a little strange with me just sitting at the foot of the table. But I guess after a few minutes everyone got used to the idea. Cec’s still out of control. Martin smiled. He linked to the Star Panther and fired up the yacht simulation. Prowler wandered over and jumped in his lap. He gazed at the stars hanging outside the Panther. Where is my home? The thought crept into his
mind, like it had a thousand times before.

  “Martin.” Angel spoke quietly as she eased into the room.

  “Hi Angel.” Martin refocused on his sister.

  She came and knelt in front of his container and studied it. She reached out and very lightly ran a hand over the top and side of the container. She pinched her lips between her teeth as silent tears welled up in her huge sad eyes.

  Martin looked into his sister’s big, almost onyx black eyes and gazed at her long silky raven hair. You’re so beautiful Angel. Why haven’t you ever gotten married? He thought sadly. “It’s ok, Angel.”

  She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown. “Is it, Martin? Is it really?” She gently took one of his ‘hands’ and touched his finger tips with hers. “What’s it like, Martin? I mean, what is your life like? I just don’t understand how you can live like this.”

  “I’m ok Angel. I really am.” He thought for a moment. “Would you like to see into my world?”

  “What? How?” She asked in disbelief. “Can I?”

  Martin smiled knowing she wouldn’t be convinced about him until she saw first hand he was ok. “Let me move over by the holoscreen.” She moved out of the way and Martin rolled across the room beside the display and turned to face her. He turned on the holoscreen. He started to initialize a synchlock with the display then hesitated. I don’t think I want to broadcast this, he reconsidered with a smile. He opened a small compartment on the top of his container, pulled out a retractable lead and plugged it into the back of the display. The holoscreen lit up with a view of the yacht’s main lounge with him slouched in the captain’s chair.

  Angel’s eye flew open. “Oh my God. Is it real?”

  Martin smiled at his sister from the screen. “Yes, to me it’s as real as your world is to you. Oh, and meet Prowler.”

  Angel scrutinized the display in wonder. She saw a big manx cat sprawled in Martin’s lap. She noticed the stars shining through the ports. “Stars? Martin, I just don’t understand. You’re right here with me.”

  Martin gave Angel the content smile reserved for a sibling. “My container is there, but as far as my perceptions go, I’m back aboard the Star Panther with Prowler.”

 

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