"We will not surrender, we will die like warriors!"
Har-Hi looped his grenade and I fired. Another energy beam hit my suit’s shields and dissipated.
"Shields at 89%," my suit comp announced.
The grenade went off in a sun-bright flash of many million candles, emitting deafening sounds over the entire sound spectrum and emitting a powerful EMP pulse.
Our suits were immune to these effects. But I was hit again so it seemed whoever was behind the door wore some kind of Dai battlesuit and was unaffected as well. Paralysators had no effect on a suited and shielded person, so I switched to thermo kinetic and fired into the halfway-open door. I suspected the gunner was sitting or standing right behind it. Superheated plasma, accelerated to near light speed, hit the door, punctured it and whoever was behind had to have been hit as well.
Har-Hi looped another grenade and used the suit’s superhuman strength to push the door all the way open and he went in. I was right behind him, sweeping the room with the gun ready to fire at any threat.
There was none. Behind the door lay a youngster, perhaps 15 years old, in a Dai battlesuit, his blaster next to his open hand and a still-burning hole in his stomach.
I threw up.
The suit’s automatic cleaned up the mess while I tried hard to keep focus on the situation. I counted 22 kids lying on the floor, unconscious from the effects of the grenade and my Paralysator shots. Har-Hi held another teenager by the throat, his feet dangling in the air. Har-Hi's other hand held the kid’s weapon. "Eric, help me. This wildcat is struggling. Rip the power pack off his suit of and then paralyze him!"
I did.
***
"The Dai kids are in good health and have only minor wounds," said Captain Harris, sitting behind his desk debriefing us. Then he scanned over our hastily made report. "I had no idea you were a deputy executioner of the Justice Department and expert in space law, Mr. Olafson."
"Sir, I am not an expert in space law, I made all this up."
"Well it worked, it even convinced me when I listened to you!"
He put the e-board down and looked up. "Why are you still standing there? I believe there are tanks to be cleaned! Dismissed!"
Har-Hi and I walked to the IST and Har-Hi grinned. "We sure don't get a break. I hoped we would be spared when we got back."
I just nodded and entered the car.
Har-Hi requested Environmental and then turned to me. "You are very quiet. Have I offended you?"
"No, not at all. It's that boy I killed. After my orders killed half a million Dai, I bloodied my hands again!"
"Eric. He died in battle! He died as he wished to die – as a Dai warrior fighting an enemy. It was a fight. I think you and I might have to face killing someone again before we retire from this Navy."
"It doesn't bother you at all?"
"We Dai are warriors and fighters but we are not mindless killers that enjoy death and mayhem for the fun of it. But it does not bother me to slay an enemy or opponent in a fight or battle. The Dai-Than patriarch you talked to today had a choice to surrender and leave the system or fight. Believe me, there is not a single Dai who does not know about the Devastator and her might. He chose to fight anyway. The kids today had a choice and he fired on you. The one I caught was either a coward or smarter because he did not fire a second time. So honor your enemy but don't dwell in depression over their demise."
The Environmental Chief, chewing his smoking stick, looked surprised as we showed up again. "You're back? What have you done this time?"
"Nothing really, but the Captain thought we had to finish our work down here!" I answered.
"Well I don't have any tanks for you to clean right now." He put the smoking stick on the other side of his wide fish mouth and said, "There is a perfect spot between tank 112 and 113, you can sit there or watch GalNet, and I’ll call you when Merkus needs you. Just stay out of the robots’ way."
"I always knew there was a reason why I like Ult," I said.
Har-Hi grinned. "We should get punished more often; maybe we can get some extra sleep down here."
The Ult growled. "Don't push your luck too much boys, or I’ll drain a tank and let you at it!"
The spot he mentioned was well hidden away from view and had a little portable GalNet Terminal, a small table, three chairs and even a syntho-leather couch.
"I wonder how many Midshipmen Merkus sends down here thinking they clean tanks and they sit here having a good time," I said.
"I don't know – he did let us scrub the tank when we came down here, so perhaps it's a privilege and the Ult wants something in return."
"We can always get him some smoke sticks. The next time we come down here," I suggested.
The Ult had appeared seemingly from out of nowhere. "I can't be bribed and you're the first who are privileged to be here. Oh and these are not smoke sticks but cigars and I only smoke ones that come from Terra, they are expensive!"
"What do they do?" I asked, "I mean, besides emitting smoke?"
The Ult took the cigar out of his mouth, looked at it and said, "I have no idea. I don't have a sense of smell or taste. It's just a habit I started and I like it. Why don't you tell me what they do to a human?"
He handed each of us a stick, then showed us how to puncture a hole in one end and light it.
I coughed hard after the first drag; the smoke had an aromatic flavor to it, that was unlike smoke from fires I knew.
Har-Hi, the Ult and I puffed the cigars, causing a thick blue cloud above the little table. I leaned back. "I am not sure if it is the cigar doing it, but I do feel relaxed and content at the moment."
Har-Hi managed to blow perfectly round smoke rings, much to the delight of Harboro. "I feel the same way. I think I like smoking cigars! I will do this again!"
A little acoustic alarm went off somewhere in Harboro's suit and he said, "Someone not belonging to the Enviro Crew is coming. I bet my last snaggle-worm it's your Lt. Merkus. Go over there, open the cover, take some goop and smear it on you and then come to the office when I call you."
I almost lost it again when I opened the cover and smelled the awful stench but it was not as horrible as the last time. Har-Hi had found a scraper, dipped it in the green slime and smeared it on me and I did the same to him.
The Ult came back. "Sure enough it's your Lieutenant and he wants to see how you are doing. Don't worry, he won't come near the tanks. He sent me. So go meet him, stink real good and he’ll think you scraped all day."
"Thanks Harboro. We’ll come back, either by a screw-up or on free time, and get you some cigars," I said.
Har-Hi added, "I’ll see if I can't find out what a snaggle-worm is and get you some."
"Can only be found on Ult Prime and they are delicious!"
"How can they be delicious if you don't have a sense of taste?" I wondered.
"Texture my friend! Texture is the key and the crunch and wiggle sensation in your throat!"
I shuddered as we walked to the office. "To each his own."
Merkus stepped back and covered his mouth. "I guess you learned your lesson. Get cleaned up, find some rest and report at 08:00 hrs for class!"
Chapter 4: Olafson´s Gang
Har-Hi and I returned to our dorm and Mao greeted us. "Have you two decided to kill each other at a later time?"
"Yes, we decided to postpone that," Har-Hi answered.
"That is good! Because we are complete now and I am tired of being behind in everything."
I said, "We are complete in what and where are you behind?"
"First things first," Mao replied. "You must meet the others, just in case, so you don't bust furniture across someone else's back."
Mao stepped into the middle of the dorm room. "You know me and Krabbel. You know Cirruit the X101 and you have met Hans."
Krabbel was hanging from the ceiling and waved at me with two of his legs. Hans got up from his reinforced bed and Cirruit, who also was already in his bunk, made a gesture of ackno
wledgment and turned to the wall.
Mao said, "I am sure you remember Elfi, but you haven't met Wetmouth and Shaka Ndebele."
One of the bed’s privacy screens clicked off and a human with the blackest skin I had seen so far looked at us. He didn't say a word and his face had a melancholic and sad expression. Mao explained, "Mr. Ndebele is from Terra and he is an Intu-Helmsman and something like an autistic savant when not under the virtu helmet of his post.
From the bathroom came a woman. She had pink hair of shoulder length, with bangs. Underneath she wore a stiff mask of a beautiful woman's face with open lips. I could see her eyes and real lips behind the mask. She said, "I am Wetmouth and I am a Sojonit sister. Please don't make any remarks or advances; I am wearing the veil of abstinence. I know what you are thinking, seeing a Sojonit!"
I shrugged. "Well, I guess you must be a telepath but you are reading someone else. If you can see in my mind you’ll find have no idea what a Sojonit is or where you come from."
She seemed surprised. "You don't?"
Mao grinned. "She isn't a telepath but she is rated to have empathic talents."
"I am sorry Wetmouth, but I really don't know what a Sojonit is."
"Sojonites are the best and most expensive prostitutes in the galaxy," Har-Hi said. "They come from Sin 4 and have a temple there. It's an ancient religious order that teaches the art of lovemaking to its priestesses with techniques, so rumors have it, that drive any man or woman of any species to the highest levels of ecstasy."
She nodded. "Yes, that is what I am, but I joined the Navy and I became a citizen. I honor my culture but I wear the veil of abstinence. I cannot be hired for services."
Mao added, "Sojonites are not allowed to show their faces to anyone, so they appear to everyone alike and no one can fall in love with one in particular. At least that's how I understand the tradition."
Wetmouth sat down at the table and said, "That is the reason."
Mao pounded his fist on the table. "Hans, Shaka and Cirruit, get your butts out of bed and come here – we have a dorm meeting, and an important one!"
They all came, Cirruit most reluctantly. "How can a machine find any rest with all this noise?"
Mao said, "With Eric here, we are now complete. We need to vote for a dorm eldest and we need to find a name for our gang. I am sick and tired of being last and the laughing stock of Suppor and his Devastator Knights, or the Fighting Dragons led by Midshipman Kim."
What he said made no sense to me. "What are you talking about?"
Cirruit yawned and said, "In the third year and here on the ship we are not only rated as individuals but as a team as well. There are 12 Midshipman groups, each has nine members. Each group competes as a whole against the others. Individual scores are combined to the team's score. It is tradition that the groups have a leader or dorm eldest and they choose a flashy name and a logo. Because we were the only dorm with eight and not nine we weren't complete and our scores not counted, so we are at the bottom of the score list. The higher the score, the more free time and bonuses and so forth."
Mao added, "You met Merkus; he is a stickler about regulations but he is fair if you follow the rules. If you get to know him he is cool. But our main instructor, the one giving out assignments and such, is Lt. Clusen – the most annoying asshole you are ever going to meet and he openly favors Suppor's group named the Devastator Knights. They are at the first rank in everything."
"I will pretend I have not heard the last sentence," said Lt. Merkus coming in.
"Officer on deck!" Mao yelled.
"So Olafson's gang is finally complete. There is a surprise drill tonight, but I exempt you. I know you did not have time to get to know each other and sort your team out like the others." With those words, he left.
I was quite surprised at that and Mao grinned. "Told you, he's a stickler but fair!"
Har-Hi said, "I want Eric to be our leader. I respect you all but I feel better if he is the one. He did a good job on the bridge, so the scuttlebutt has it."
Krabbel said, "Hands or legs up! I count eight, Eric, you're it!"
"Hold it, I don't know anything about those things you talked about. How can I lead you? I don't even know you."
"Too late, you're it!" Cirruit said. "Next point, we need a name."
Elfi said, "I don't want anything like ’Flagship's best’ or ‘Devastator Dragons’. That is so cheesy! I bet a thousand Midshipman groups before us had the same names."
"I want to go back to bed!" Cirruit complained, "So make suggestions."
Shaka rolled his eyes and said, "Me too! Lt. Merkus calls us Olafson's gang. Mao calls us gang all the time. So what's wrong with that?"
"What kind of group spirit is that if you use my last name?" I objected.
"Olafson's Gang it is! I vote for it." Cirruit almost cut me off.
Krabbel counted hands (and his leg) and said, "That was not so bad. We are complete, have a name and all we need is a logo."
I said with determination, "Not my face!"
Hans volunteered. "I am going to design one tonight. I like designing and drawing things."
"All right then, meeting adjourned." Mao pounded the table and Cirruit was back in his bunk before Mao's fist hit the table a second time.
***
Clusen was human and most likely from one of the many colony worlds. He clearly was of mixed stock and it seemed as if he had Saran roots. He had blue eyes but the characteristic dark, almost olive-colored skin tone humans from Saran had and also black hair, he wore it in a pageboy-style cut, just a little shorter than Elfi. This style was very popular among Sarans of both sexes. All Midshipmen were assembled in a university-style lecture room. Semicircular benches were arranged in tiers before a raised stage-like podium with a lectern in the middle.
Now I understood what the others tried to explain to me the previous night. The Midshipmen sat in groups and all had different colored armbands with a logo in the center.
Clusen arrived at exactly 08:01 hrs and we all got up and stood to attention.
He looked the class over and then he focused on us, and in particular, at me. "Ah, who have we here? Mr. Olafson decided to leave ship commanding business to those who are really qualified."
Suppor and his knights chuckled.
"Now since your group is now complete, have you thought of a name and who is going to be your senior? Why don't you answer me that one, Mr. Har-Hi?"
"Sir we are the Olafson Gang and Eric Olafson is our leader and Mr. Kleinschmitt designed a logo for us, Sir!"
"Olafson's Gang? That simply does not have the same ring as Devastator Knights, Or Flagship's Best, but Olafson's Gang it is. Your group color will be black. It is usually not used since our uniforms are black, but the good colors have all been chosen."
Again there was suppressed laughter from other groups and someone said, "It will symbolize their grief over being last very nicely."
Again there was snickering and laughing.
He made a face as if he felt sorry for us. "You couldn't find a better artistic talent in your group than a Saturnian? Well let me see what it is supposed to be."
Hans stood clenching his titanic fists in suppressed anger. "Sir, I chose a stylized rendering of an old steel chain with nine links symbolizing our group."
"You may wear it. It is very simple, but then you did it and that is probably the best a Saturnian can come up with."
I wondered what Clusen had against us. Was this another test? Did he act this way because he was told? He insulted us in a very unprofessional manner. I had my multi com switched on and recorded the audio, just in case I needed evidence later.
He made a gesture for all to sit down and then he activated a field screen that came to life floating behind him. "Computronic, update senior class roster. Dorm 12 is now complete and the group will be known as Olafson's Gang."
The view screen showed a list with the group names and behind each group name a tally of the accumulated score.
> Our name appeared on the bottom of the list, much to the amusement of the others, especially the Knights who were on top.
"There have to be losers in any competition and it looks like Olafson's Gang has taken that particular honor," Clusen said with an unveiled grin. He then commanded the system, "Computronic, daily update of all scores."
Now something happened that Clusen did obviously not expect. Our name jumped all the way to the top with a score total that made the Knights a distant second.
Close's chin dropped to his chest and he said with a louder voice, "Computronic, double-check the results. Actualize from current personnel files."
"Check complete, all files are updated." Nothing changed on the readout.
"Computronic, explain the clearly incorrect and improbable high score of Olafson's Gang."
"The group Olafson's Gang is complete and their combined score is the value displayed. There is no error. Citations earned by the members of that group count for 91% of the score value. This includes the Medal of Honor, the Silver Star and Purple Heart accredited to group member Olafson. Medal of Honor valued at 10 000 points. Silver Star valued at 5000 points. Group members Olafson and Har-Hi have received a citation for gallantry and completing a salvage and rescue mission from Captain Harris at 05:00 hrs. Science score obtained by group member Wetmouth is the highest score recorded by any Midshipman since…"
"Enough! I order you to reset the scoreboard as it was with the Olafson Gang at the bottom!"
"Unable to comply, score system is a Fleet Headquarters program and altering of input values or programming can only be made by Fleet Headquarter-authorized personnel. This system has forwarded your error report and reset request to the appropriate departments."
Clusen was getting angry. "Computronic, never mind. Disregard my last command. No altering is necessary."
"No altering has been done. Error report has already been filed, score system is a…"
He turned the screen off and faced us.
Suppor protested. "Lt. Clusen, I demand you do something about that! I do not accept second place."
"Mr. Suppor, sit down. You will address me properly and with respect."
Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 7 Page 22
