Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 7

by Vanessa Ravencroft

He ran inside his office and yelled at the GalNet terminal. "Get me Command and Control!"

  He was instantly connected to the Academy control center, located just a level below his office, and he looked at Commander Becker's face and said with a demanding tone, "What just happened?"

  "Sir, what exactly are you referring to?"

  "Are you blind? Something just crashed on our landing field."

  "No, Sir. A Barracuda destroyer just landed." Becker was clearly trying not to tell Dent everything he knew, most likely fearing the reaction of his superior.

  "What in the Devil's name is a destroyer doing here and why did it come down like an orbital bomb? Was it not enough that we had to grant landing permission to a fish-stinking Ult Captain and his battleship just yesterday?"

  "Sir, it is Newport tradition that we grant landing permission to competing teams. We could not refuse the Ult Captain as we never refused anyone before, and we could not refuse the Barracuda as it brings the team of the Devastator. Their landing maneuver, as reckless as it appeared, was executed within the rules and it was done manually by a very talented helmsman."

  "Remind me to find a reason to change this tradition before this cursed Captain Harris decides one day to land his flying continent."

  "Yes, Sir."

  "So Cadet Suppor and his team have arrived as I was told he would. Make sure the Captain of that Barracuda is reprimanded for any damage he did to our lawns and welcome Cadet Suppor and have him brought to me."

  Becker looked astounded. "Sir, I do not know where you got this information from, but the name of the cadet team leader from the Devastator is Olafson and he is the captain of that Barracuda. I double-checked, but all command codes and orders check out, Captain Harris has made this cadet Acting Captain over a full destroyer and they arrived alone. I also must add they managed to land on the Duro-Crete and did not damage the lawns at all." Dent was known by his staff for his choleric outbreaks, so Commander Becker braced himself for what was to come as he noticed the Admiral's face turn red.

  Dent's voice rasped with anger. "Are you telling me that this cursed upstart Harris allowed a team of green-nosed cadets to fly a destroyer all by themselves? How could they have possibly landed on the Duro-Crete, the field is full!"

  "Yes Sir, this is exactly what I am telling you. They also found room on the landing field, right between the Leyland and two of the D40s, there isn't enough room to squeeze a spindlar in the space between those ships, but they did it. As I said, whoever steered that destroyer is one hell of a helmsman, especially doing it at that speed."

  Dent wanted to say something else, but he noticed the flashing symbol on his screen, alerting him to a call on a special secure and private channel, so he said instead, "Deal with them and then I want to know everything there is to know about these cadets."

  He switched before Becker could acknowledge his orders. The other call was from his associates of the Worm. As usual the screen remained blank and the voice, as human as it sounded, though certainly artificially created, said, "Good afternoon, Admiral. I hope all is well on Newport."

  Dent wiped the spittle off the corners of his mouth, brushed over his short brown hair to calm his nerves and responded, "Yes, everything is as it should be. The cadet team of the Devastator has just arrived."

  The voice sounded pleased. "Splendid news indeed, you are aware that we want the Suppor team to win, so your team has to take second place, but you will, of course, request that team to remain on Newport for the rest of their third year. Has the Narth arrived yet?"

  "I was informed just now, that the arriving team is lead by a cadet named Olafson, not Suppor, and Fleet Command has denied my request for the Narth cadet, now for the sixth time."

  There was silence and then the artificial voice didn't sound artificial at all, there was clear anger and even something like confusion in it."Olafson, are you certain the name is Olafson? There must be a mistake, or perhaps a second one. This cursed man and his three times cursed team is supposed to be dead and rotting on Quagmire Bog!" The voice fell silent and Dent felt as if he just received information that was actually not meant for him. He had already thought the connection was lost, despite the still-active channel indicator, when the voice came back on. "We were assured that you could request any cadet you deem worthy, why have they denied your request?"

  "I cannot say, no real explanation was given, but my requests were denied by Fleet Command and stamped with the seal of the Admiral of the Fleet." He thought it was a good time to explain the reason for his own frustration. "Maybe it is the fact that I was overlooked for promotion. I should have received my second star long ago and that could have added some weight to my requests."

  "Don't overestimate your value, Dent. You can be replaced as easily as we put you there. Gather all information on the team of the Devastator and come back to us as soon as possible."

  Now the channel indicator went dark, the connection was terminated.

  Dent was in no mood to receive any other calls, but the GalCom unit signaled that his aide was urgently trying to reach him and so he acknowledged and said to the officer, "You had better have a very good reason for disturbing me now."

  "Sir, I do, the Admiral of the Fleet is calling and has waited for over 10 minutes on priority channel. I am running out of excuses, but your terminal was busy, even for priority!"

  Admiral Dent knew it was not a good idea to make the Old Man of the Fleet wait and so he straightened himself and accepted the call.

  Admiral McElligott clearly wasn't pleased. "Mr. Dent, what does it take to get through to you? Are you too busy to take my call?"

  "No, Sir, I was otherwise disposed and not near the terminal."

  "Your terminal was busy when I tried it directly, that is why I called your assistant."

  The Admiral of the Fleet had basically called him a liar and Dent had to take a deep breath to keep calm. "Sir, what is it I can do for you?"

  McElligott switched from being displeased to an almost over friendly tone. "I am calling you in regards of this year's challenge. Since you are so successful we decided it is time we observe the challenges more closely. This year I and a delegation of Academy Commanders will come to your Academy to take a very detailed look at it. Frankly, there have been voices that demanded a more independent panel of judges. I must admit I paid little attention over the past years to a seemingly unimportant inter-fleet contest, but I was told it has become a very prestigious affair and that it is your teams that carry away the trophy consistently. Now, after checking into this matter more closely, I came to the conclusion that you either do something much better than all the others, and if so it must be recognized and rewarded, or the evaluation process that awards the successors might not be as unbiased and technically sound as it could be."

  Dent's face paled. "Sir, with all due respect, it was me who turned this school into what it is today and it was me who made a previously obscure inter-fleet competition to the fierce and highly-coveted event it is now. I resent any notion of unfairness, most likely raised by those who lost against my cadets. Newport is an elite school and I handpicked every cadet serving here. These are already excellent cadets that excel and became noticed above the rest. I simply fine tune them and give them an environment they can truly rise above the norm. This is the very purpose of this Academy, which has existed for almost 1000 years now."

  "But it has only recently, let's say in the last 20 years, really taken this concept to new heights," the old Admiral said. "Don't get me wrong Mr. Dent, if all is as you say it is, then your promotion is long overdue and we must find a way to implement your expertise over the entire officer education process, with you at the helm of course."

  Dent calmed down; if he managed things carefully he just might get Stoke's chair after all. He would be very important and could assist his special friends in ways not even they had dreamt of. "It will, of course, be an honor to welcome you personally here on Newport and show you and my esteemed colleagues how I
manage this consistent level of excellence."

  "I am glad you say so, Mr. Dent. We are only a day out and will arrive shortly."

  ***

  While we rearranged the furniture and tried to make things more acceptable for Hans and Krabbel, more and more cadets from other ships and installations filled the hallways outside our dorm.

  Krabbel and Cirruit managed to get additional mattresses and scavenged even a dozen duranium steel beams to built Hans a makeshift bed. I was not sure if I should ask them where they got the metal beams from and then decided not to, because I was actually a little afraid of the answer.

  Mao came back from his reconnaissance mission and gave us a short report about the other teams that had already arrived and of those still expected to be here. He knew that this time every Academy branch had sent a team as well as several large ships that had third year Midshipmen teams and that more than 185 teams were expected to compete. He also found a mess hall with serv-matics on the ground level of this building.

  Wetmouth also returned right after Mao and said she had some data she still needed to evaluate.

  I noticed it was almost 20:00 hrs and still no one had shown up to tell us what would happen next or where and when to go for dinner.

  There was really nothing to else to do in the boring dorm room so I said, "Let's have dinner. Mao found a mess hall with serv-matics."

  Har-Hi, who had just finished helping Cirruit to weld the steel beam supports underneath Hans's bed, said, "Good idea, I am actually quite hungry."

  Cirruit put his tools away. "I wish I could have that simu-eat upgrade done as soon as possible. I always want to share our dinner and not just sit there."

  I turned to him as I straightened my uniform and checked my shave. "What is that?"

  "You know I don't eat. I can't even pretend to eat as I have no throat, no stomach and no tongue, but I am a machine and there are upgrades offered, not officially sanctioned by Mothermachine though, but one of them is called the simu-eat upgrade and it would give me the ability to pretend to eat. It's just so prohibitively expensive."

  "I can give you the money. I have lots and have yet found no real use for it."

  "Ah yes, I remember you've got almost as much cash as Mr. Schwartz." He then looked to the floor. "I also remember I haven't paid you back the money I borrowed when we first met."

  "Forget about it already, we are friends. I really don't need it and I am glad I can do something for you. Consider it a birthday present or something like that."

  Elfi said, "Do X101's have birthdays?"

  Cirruit nodded. "Yes, we celebrate the day we are switched on. We call it click-to-light anniversary, and it is celebrated much like a human birthday. We give and receive presents and everyone carries a little light around their necks."

  We continued our conversation about birthday traditions while we made our way to the mess hall that Mao had discovered.

  No one was in the mess hall, so we prepared a table. Mao and Krabbel went to the serv-matics and piled a four-course meal on our table.

  I made a short speech, raised my glass, and we started our dinner.

  A group of cadets came in and watched us eat. One of them asked, "Why are you eating? We didn't hear any orders or mess calls."

  I shrugged. "We didn't hear any mess calls either."

  Just then a Lieutenant in dark green uniform walked in, looked at our table and went to the serv-matics. He returned with a dinner plate and silverware and asked. "May I join you? Your table is nicely laid out!"

  I stood and the others followed my example. "Please do, Sir. It would be an honor. Please join our table, Sir."

  He sat down and we resumed our meal. The cadet who had asked us about dinner was still standing there and sounded agitated. "Sir, we did not hear any mess calls and wonder when there is dinner?"

  "Cadet, you are a senior, this is not basic training. The mess hall and serv-matics are here for exactly this purpose, so you may eat when you find time outside of scheduled training periods."

  The cadet made a concerned face but told his friends and they went to the serv-matics as well.

  The Lieutenant on our table was humanoid but had distinctive non-humanoid features as well. To me, he looked like a cross between human and Shiss.

  He looked us over. "Why the formal silverware and tablecloth, and you are all still wearing dress uniform?"

  I explained. "Sir, it is sort of a tradition for us. We try to have one meal together and when possible, we do it the Navy way."

  He patted his mouth with a napkin, reached for his glass and after he drank he nodded and said, "I see you are from the Devastator, so it must have been you who landed that Barracuda destroyer in that, let's say, heartstopping way?"

  Shaka felt addressed so he answered. "It was not my intention to stop any hearts, Sir, but Planet Control requested we do not damage the grass and so I squeezed her onto the only free spot on the Duro-Crete."

  He forked a morsel of food into his mouth and after he had eaten it he said, "Expertly-executed landing indeed."

  Shaka inclined his head and said, "Thank you, Sir."

  After he had eaten another bite the officer turned to look at me and said, "I went over your personal files and I must say I am impressed with your records. The flagship of the first Fleet seems to have sent a capable team this time."

  He made some more small talk and, while he seemed friendly and jovial, I had the inexplicable feeling he had ulterior motives for having his meal with us. It was nothing but a feeling, nothing he did or said suggested otherwise. I considered that I was maybe a little too suspicious lately.

  We ended our meal a little later. He got up, thanked us and left. After we had cleared the tables we also went back to our dorm.

  The building was busy now with cadets from all over the Union, and each group displayed their ship or academy branch badges and decals with pride.

  There was a busy din of conversation in the hallways but not all were friendly; we witnessed a few heated discussions too.

  When we were noticed, the conversations stopped or were replaced by whispers.

  I credited much of that to the towering presence of Hans and, of course, Krabbel was quite an impressive sight, even for a society used to all kinds of alien lifeforms.

  Just as we reached the second floor, I spotted Olia and Limbur and both of them recognized me at the same time. Olia gave me a running hug, only to be followed by Limbur, who appeared to have grown even a little bigger and stronger since I had seen him last.

  Olia was as pretty as ever, but I had to admit she was no match for Elfi's exquisite beauty, at least in my eyes.

  Both sported patches of the USS Avalon and I learned it was an Ultra battleship of the new wedge class, under an Ult Captain they both deeply respected.

  I thanked Olia and Limbur for their support and what they had done to help me. I told them what I could and what McElligott had told me.

  Finally I found time to introduce them to the others and Limbur looked up to Hans and offered his hand. "That is just my luck. I thought I would at least gain points in physical combat but now that there is a Saturnian competing …"

  Hans smiled at him and took Limbur's hand. "For the most part I am just a good eater and besides, physical strength has very little to do with excellence in physical combat."

  Limbur nodded. "I know. We both have a friend who attacks anything, regardless of size, when he gets angry." Limbur gave me a wide grin as he said that and earned a round of laughter from my friends.

  Har-Hi elbowed me in my side. "Yes, it appears he knows you well."

  Hans said to Limbur, "I am strong, yes, but I would not want to face Har-Hi, our Dai, in a real fight. Physically I am far superior but I would still end up dead faster than you could blink an eye."

  Limbur looked at Har-Hi with respect. "I heard of the fighting skills of the Dai, and hearing that from a Saturnian, that is some compliment! I am sure glad you are on our side then!"

&nbs
p; Olia then told me how the Avalon fought a battle against Nul-Nul ships and got damaged.

  Her girlish face suddenly changed and had a grown-up, almost old expression, when she told me how she helped to save dozens of plasma-burned crew members, piled up in a smoke-filled corridor while everyone else fought against a Nul boarding party.

  Only now I noticed, she had become a medical specialist and her ribbon readout displayed the Silver Star and the Combat Medic ribbon in gold, a rarely awarded decoration given to acknowledge exceptional heroism and dedication in saving lives.

  Olia had lost much of her girlish ways and it became apparent to me while she was talking. She was no longer the fashion-crazed, color-haired girl she had been when I first met her at Camp Idyllic. She had grown up, not just physically but inside as well. She told me that Az-Az and Naxwax re-entered the Academy and were now in second year at Arsenal II and she kept in contact with both of them and that they extended their greetings. Galmy had chosen a legal career and was at Fleet Legal School on Pluribus. I had to promise Olia to call them all as soon as I could.

  Limbur rolled up the sleeve of his uniform and showed me his right arm. The skin was pasty white. "Look at my brand new arm! It's as good as the old one and they tell me the color will change in time as well." He grinned, but it was a hard smile as he added, "I tell you those Nul-Nul have sharp teeth! One of them made off with my old one."

  Olia looked up to Limbur and pride glittered in her eyes. "Limbur held an access corridor all by himself and prevented the Nul from taking Engineering. We are all very proud of him."

  Just like Olia, Limbur appeared to be the same old friend on the surface but he too had lost much of the youthful innocence he had displayed when I met him first. His ribbon display showed the Purple Heart and the Silver Star and he had a row of ribbons attesting to his marksmanship and fighting abilities. He shrugged. "I don't really give a hoot about this contest. It doesn't seem all that important to me or to our Captain."

  Olia agreed with him and said, "I too hope it is over soon so we can return to the Avalon. Limbur and I are going to stay after we graduate, Captain Wonn said so."