Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 7

by Vanessa Ravencroft

  Wildcat stepped next to us and said, "Captain, those Midshipmen would be a fine replacement for those good men we lost today."

  "I know Commander. These two are fine officers already in my book but I cannot grant your request. After their two weeks training is complete, they will continue to rotate through the departments."

  Captain Harris had given us a day of R&R. We went back to our dorm with no particular hurry. As we walked along a corridor Har-Hi said, "How did you kill that last Nul fighter anyway? I saw you were without maneuver power, out of ammo, almost completely out of energy and your life signs were flatlining. Then it suddenly looked as if the Nul flew into a solid wall and exploded."

  "I don't even remember firing at the last one. All I could feel was that pain, are you sure I killed it?"

  "There was no one else near and I was out of ammo for the TLs too. I went as fast as I could to get into FE-FTL range but I knew I would not make it in time, then the Nul decelerated from 800 clicks a second to zero instantly, at least that's how it looked from my instruments, and then it was utterly and completely obliterated."

  "Maybe one of those grav bombs malfunctioned. I sure don't remember doing anything."

  "Well that could be. I am glad it happened no matter how. I would miss you."

  "Really? I thought you hated my guts!" I said with a smirk.

  "You know better than that!"

  Chapter 6: Parade

  They had the Wolfcraft repaired and it was no longer Fleet standard gray, but black, with Olafson red trim and the Olafson seal of the two wolves painted on each side below the cockpit. Two weeks had passed since our fight against the Nul. There was not much information about the whole incident in the official channels. GalNet News showed bits and pieces of the fight and called it a minor border incident. A force that gave the Devi pause and caused 14 casualties sounded like more than a minor incident to me. The Squadron News magazine had a lengthy article about the intruder test and even a report about my fight with Har-Hi, but very little about the Nul attack. Har-Hi speculated that there was more to it and I agreed, remembering my own thoughts. However this was the military; it was not required to divulge all its secrets for public scrutiny.

  Commander Cotton and the other pilots treated us like part of the Squadron; we ate in the same mess hall or sat around in the Hot Standby lounge right next to the pre-flight deck. 50 squadrons were always on Hot Standby, meaning they were able to launch combat in less than three minutes. Hot Standby rotated daily and when it was the turn of Squadron 12, Har-Hi and I shared the duty. They all were cocky and arrogant and full of energy, but there was a deep sense of honor, duty to the death and comradeship. Squadron 12, of course, competed with all the other squadrons and the entire Wolfcraft Fighter Department, which competed against the Marine’s Gunboats. All in a professional way, of course, everyone knowing full well they all were on the same side.

  Har-Hi was, according to Cotton, the best pilot he ever had and so it came to be that we flew quite a few exercises and competitions against other squadrons. No matter what the challenge, Har-Hi came out on top. We had just returned from an exercise fought in the atmosphere of an uninhabited desert planet. His fighter was now deep red and he had a whirling Alti-Karr and a glyph of the Dai alphabet reading Tar-Kar. Thanks to Har-Hi's constant tutorship, I was now able to read and decipher most of the Dai glyphs. Like every pilot, we were allowed and encouraged to modify and personalize our fighters. So instead of four FTLs, my Wolfcraft carried now dual launchers with Locust Swarm missiles. Sneered at by most pilots for their weak destructive power, Har-Hi said a swarm of target-following warheads was distracting and unnerving and that bought the necessary half a second time that was so often crucial in any fight with a similarly skilled opponent.

  Our last combat exercise results showed that it worked just as Har-Hi said it would.

  We were greeted at the door with a rough-throated cheer. Cotton surrounded the chairs and pounded our shoulders, then handed out cigars. "Fine job boys, fine job indeed. The Commander of Squadron Four owes me a whole case of these now. So, in the light of your accomplishments I am giving you both two days off, before the big day!"

  He pointed his cigar at me and added, "Viking, I mean two days off. I don't want to see you anywhere near the simulators or near the pre-flight deck."

  "Yes Sir, two days off."

  Har-Hi puffed on his cigar and said, "What big day, Wildcat Sir?"

  Cotton sighed. "Well, Friday is your last day with the Squadron. Our time is up and no matter what I tried, Command insists you go your regular way. Never had two more talented fighter pilots than you two, and I would have loved to see you tear up fighter school at Arsenal IX and come back to us, unless of course, they keep you as instructors."

  Blowdart, actually Lt. Commander Neuheen who was a Blue and a distant relative of the Kermac said, "Union Week begins on Friday and the Devi is going to reach the Pluribus system by Thursday night to participate in the big parade for the first time."

  "I forgot about Union Week," I said. "I also had no idea the Devi would be in the Pluribus System."

  Wildcat laughed. "They don't feel the necessity to discuss flight plans with Midshipmen on a daily basis, even if one of them commanded that mighty ship of ours for a few weeks, but you two and the Squadron are going to fly escort in the parade and our guns will be loaded with pyro color bombs for dazzling show effect fights and all that."

  Blowdart handed us our jackets while trying to get into his own. Har-Hi took his and helped him get it on. "I never heard of any parades, but then this is only my third year as a Union citizen."

  Another fighter pilot, sitting in one of the old fighter seats that had been placed in the squadron standby room, holding a magazine, turned. "There are always parades on the first day of Union Week, on many planets and also here at Pluribus, but they are usually ground or aerial parades. Only every five years, to commemorate the last victory over the Y'All, there is a big parade in space between the orbit of Pluribus Unum and Planet Suburbia."

  Yet another, standing by the serv-matic vending machine, added to the conversation. "It is only the ninth time the Devi has participated. It's spectacular, all member species participate with ships of their own, often pre-join old-timers, beautifully restored or maintained and then the Navy shows off their newest stuff."

  Wildcat smiled. "Main reason for these silly parades is of course, to send a message to the no doubt observing enemies saying: 'Try something and we parade down your system next.'"

  He laughed. "Now get out of here and remember you have strict orders by me to relax, if any of your instructors gives you grief or thinks you need something to do, tell them you are still attached to Squadron 12 and my Command."

  Har-Hi and I returned to Deck 54, not really sure what to do with two days off. Har-Hi put into words what I was thinking as we left the IST, "I think I am already institutionalized. If no one tells me what to do I feel lost. Do you have any plans for these two days?"

  "I wouldn't call it plans, as I didn't expect two days in midweek either. Our friends are certainly assigned to departments."

  We reached our corridor and to our surprise, there was a small crowd standing by the door of the Yellow dorm, there also were two Marines guarding the door and a Marine officer with the CID logo on his sleeve. I wondered what the Criminal Investigation Department was doing here and the subdued hushed atmosphere made it almost certain to me that this was no exercise. Sure enough, a Med Tech guided a floating gurney out of the room moments later. It was completely covered.

  We did not see any of our friends in the small crowd, but I saw Suppor and his team and I saw Clusen.

  On our way past the small crowd, we almost ran into Bognar, the Attikan of the Blue Team. "I guess we don't have anything in our display case that could compare to Ace badges and fighter jackets!"

  Har-Hi waved his hand. "We didn't come to pick a fight or anything. We just have a little spare time. What is going on here, anyway?
"

  "Strangest thing. Midshipman Ulther committed suicide."

  I remembered the tall Spindlar leader of the Yellow Team well. Even with all the rivalry, we knew the other Midshipmen by name and, except for the Red Team called the Blazing Inferno, and of course the Devastator Knights, the Green Team, we actually got along.

  Bognar added, "He didn't seem to be the suicidal type, especially since his team took second place in overall count just yesterday."

  Clusen had come within earshot range and hissed, "Midshipman Ulther committed suicide, there is no question about that, and I won't allow any false rumors to the contrary." He raised his voice a little more. "It looks like there are too many Midshipmen with nothing to do, go to your assigned tasks or I will find some things for you to do."

  The crowd thinned fast. Clusen talked quietly with Suppor. Then the officer glared in our direction, as we had to walk past him to go to our dorm. "Your state of dress might be acceptable on flight deck, but this disgusting mixture of civilian clothing and uniform parts is a disgrace up here. What are your current orders?"

  "Strict R&R, Commander Cotton's orders, Sir," I answered.

  Clusen clenched his fists. "You won't be under Cotton's command by Monday, and then your days are numbered!"

  Har-Hi and I weren't really tired, so he set up a game of Tham-The. This was an ancient Dai strategy game somewhat akin to chess, played on a circular bowl-shaped set and with 89 different game pieces. There was an element of luck, as an eight-sided dice had to be cast at certain moves. Har-Ho had tried to teach me the finer nuances of the game for weeks, ever since I finally understood the basic rules. My blue and black pieces marched neatly over the field and I thought I could already deal his purple forces a game-deciding blow, when his red forces attacked my spearhead from the side. Even though I anticipated his move and had kept a regiment of skim-ka riders to deal with a flank attack, his counter-attack came swifter than expected.

  Wetty and Mao were the first who came off duty and right after them it was Cirruit, Shaka and Krabbel.

  Mao, who loved the game and played it often, had pulled up a chair to watch, while Wetty glanced at it and got a warning glance from both of us. She spread her arms. "I am not going to say a word!"

  Mao, who always knew the latest ship scuttlebutt said, "There is no way Ulther committed suicide. We are checked out by psych and they would not let anyone unstable like that even become a cadet."

  Wetmouth crossed her arms. "It is not unprecedented however, every year there are suicides among the cadets and Midshipmen, compared to the total number of Midshipmen and cadets it is less than one in 500,000 but it does happen."

  Har-Hi finished his flank attack, decimating my black Nur-tyu infantry by more than half. "I can read lips and have very fine ears and I heard Suppor whispering to Clusen saying, ‘the Yellow Team is out of the way now and we can go!’"

  Elfi and Hans had just come in and, while Elfi went straight to the bath, Hans sat carefully down on his reinforced chair. "You heard of the suicide, right?"

  Everyone nodded.

  "Mao and I are currently at Security and we heard the Old Man himself giving the Devi Security Chief orders to investigate the matter. It is the first time I saw the Admiral and it is the most memorable meeting I ever had. I had the feeling he looked right down into my soul and saw all the mistakes I made when I was younger."

  I knew immediately there was something wrong as Elfi staggered, wet and naked, backwards out of the bath and collapsed!

  INTERLUDE: KOKEN

  It was easier than he thought. Larthop was on Koken. The place crawled with scientists, Xeno archeologists and scholars. The Union had found the planet of origin of the Kermac. Back when they were split into five societies and subspecies. The Ker and the Mac united and tried to eradicate the others. One of those species was the Blue, who had been forced into exile. The Blue, after a trip of generations, reached the Andromeda Galaxy and became a thriving and somewhat mysterious society with a high tech standard. When the Union reached Andromeda via the Bridge, the Blue joined the Union.

  Larthop had read and uploaded as much as he could about that subject, as there were many Blue scientists now on Koken. Larthop knew they were Psionic gifted, at least as talented as their distant modern cousins, the Kermac. However, there was surprisingly little info about what Psionic powers they had. He was not concerned of course and kept a dual mind shield, one that was easy to bypass and read and there he kept his writer identity. If someone would probe, all they saw was a harmless eager writer for a well-known magazine.

  The eager and friendly Tinkehel had kept his word and needed very little persuasion.

  Koken, for over a million years, had been a quite grave-like world, bereft of the sentient civilizations it brought forth. It was now as busy as a Klack world during a sugar water sale. Not far off the ruins of Esscas, the old capital City of the Ker, a new town had sprung up, mostly stacked living modules, but as always with scientists, came technicians, engineers, laborers and shopkeepers. He wondered what his special friends the Kermac would say if they could see that.

  Security was reasonably tight coming here but now, on the surface, there was virtually none.

  No one paid any attention to him, he had rented a little multi-purpose flyer and followed the directions he had received from the Shadow of the Brotherhood and on a mountain plateau about 30 clicks away from the ruins and the center of attention, he found the spot where rubble had been moved recently. As he went closer, he found the badly-decomposed bodies of at least 80 Plato slaves. They all had been shot. There were no insects and almost no rainfall on this side of Koken; the remains were not ancient but could not be older than perhaps a year or two. Someone had been here recently and it wasn't the Union. He felt cheated and feared the Kermac had been here and taken the Disc he needed, but he had come this far, so he would follow the directions of the Shadow to the end. Maybe he could find clues about who took the Disc if it was no longer there.

  For a moment he felt as if he was being watched, but the rocky and dusty plateau was bare of life as far as he could see. He had to use his telekinetic powers to remove a few big boulders that blocked the entrance to a tunnel. Here at the entrance, he found the remains of two Hythagh, the talented and industrious civilization of engineers that was one of the core Thrall species of the Kermac. Their uniforms and their equipment were dirty, but their tools showed virtually no decay. Both Hythagh were still armed with Kermac line blasters, but their necks twisted in an unnatural way. This is how Kermac used their telekinetic powers to kill. There was no doubt now, Kermac had been here only recently.

  He turned on the light he had brought and followed the long corridor. The ceiling height dropped the further he went, and then he came across three elaborate decorated chairs with pillows and blankets. Each chair had carrying handles. It was easy to piece together what had happened. Three Kermac were carried by slaves until the ceiling became too low and they had to walk.

  After he had walked for at least two clicks, he came across yet another body. This one was mummified and to his astonishment, a Kermac. Judging by the robes and the elaborate get-up, this was not just any Kermac, but one of the wizards! He had been killed by a small weapon beam hitting him between the eyes. Did they fight over what they found coming out?

  Larthop had studied the arcane and the mystic arts all his life and was not easily spooked or scared, but again he could not help himself feeling like he was being watched. His mental powers did not detect anything, but the feeling was strong.

  Without even knowing he had pulled out his own little blaster, wishing he had taken one of the stronger line blasters. Of course, most of his arcane and mystic research had led to a dead end and shown him that it was nothing more than superstition, smoke and mirrors, but not all of it and perhaps the strong Psionic mind of a Kermac had left an imprint on the area before he died.

  He went on, and finally reached massive double doors of a dark gray metal that stood
wide open. Larthop was glad, as he was not sure if he could have moved them.

  As he stepped through, a booming telepathic voice shocked him to his core. It was so strong and so immense it had shattered all his defenses. "The master was defeated with the price of a universe and he who must never be woken is no longer asleep! The rule has been broken!"

  The message was repeated and he realized it was a recording. He had heard that a Saran inventor had managed to record a short telepathic message onto a device and replay it, but according to the reports it was so weak you could only detect it like a whisper. Larthop was sure this recording was not of Kermac technology, but of much older origin. Before him were three perfectly round shafts, he estimated them to be about 40m across. On the far side of the dome-shaped hall was another open door.

  He looked down the shafts and it appeared they went on forever.

  The instructions of the Shadow ended here. He did not know if he had to go down one of these shafts. He took a polo coin out of his pocket and dropped it down the middle shaft. The coin plunked onto an invisible shield that was sealing the middle shaft, but the same test revealed that the other two were open. He decided to see what was behind the other open door before he decided what to do about the shafts.

  Again, the Psionic message boomed and he whirled around to see if someone else had come, but there was no one.

  Behind the second door was another big chamber with a large round platform about 150m across with two talon-shaped towering monoliths on each side. He counted 20 dead beings he recognized from recordings to be Siurca, the tailed monkey-like species that originated from this planet’s moon and protected this world until they made the mistake of destroying a Union explorer.

  Some of them were killed by a very strong thermic weapon, and most of their bodies were burned to molecular ashes, others were cut in half by something very sharp. It seemed these chambers were the site of much death and killing and only very recently. His heart sank as he saw, what looked like a control column, had been cut.