Desert Planet (THE RIM CONFEDERACY Book 6)

by Jim Rudnick

  "Impressive," Tanner said. "How close did those doubles get?" he asked.

  "Sir," Colonel Richards said, "I got within twenty feet of the pyramid myself, and a few got a bit closer. There was no doubt that we showed anyone watching what kind of a foe we would be, Sir. And here's a look at those who came out into the sunshine to watch, Sir."

  The camera fighter then took a long, low, slow pass between two of the outlying pyramids, aimed at the center one, the Resources pyramid, the surrogate target for the exercise. As it passed over the gap between the two outer pyramids, one could see down on the sand hundreds, maybe thousands, of small figures of Enkians staring up at the whole wing of fighters. Faces looked up, feathered crests were blown by the fighters, and all those faces showed one thing.

  Fear.

  Fear of something they'd never seen before.

  Fear of what such a force could do should that need to happen.

  "Time of the exercise?" Tanner intoned.

  "At 0930 hours, Sir. Lasted a full hour, Sir. Complete tape is in the wing archives too, Lieutenant," Richards said to the helmsman

  Tanner shook his head. No need to see the tape yet.

  "And tomorrow's exercise, Colonel?" he barked out.

  "Sir, same hour but this time, we're using our bomber forces—more than two hundred of them, and the exercise again will use the Resources pyramid as the surrogate target. We are going to speed up the rate of fire—well, pseudo-fire, actually—to enable us to make more than four runs as well as to also use troop transports to land a full division of marines, Sir. If it's one thing we Barony military men know, it's how to fight, Sir. And that's exactly what we will show Enki tomorrow once more. Oh, and, Sir, plans are underway for a combined land/air and bomber exercise now, Sir. We'll forward same to you within the hour, Sir," he said, still standing at attention and staring straight ahead.

  Tanner nodded. "Dismissed, Colonel," he said and told the helm to kill the streaming.

  After a second or two, the screen went back to show the planet below, slowly turning in orbit beneath them. He pondered the recently finished exercise and wondered what it might have meant to the Enkians below. It had been only a bit less than twenty-four hours after the guilty verdict at Bram's trial yesterday. He knew that tomorrow's exercise would be bigger, flashier, and hopefully more on-point.

  He was on edge, he knew, as his fingers slowed and tapped one, two ... one, two ... on his knee.

  Lieutenant Irving, the bridge Ansible officer, turned and said, "Sir, incoming EYES ONLY from the ambassador down in the capital city. Ready room, Sir?" she asked.

  "Roger that, STAT," he said as he jumped up and ran across the bridge to his ready room just off to one side of the bridge.

  He sat at his desk, and the monitor on his console suddenly lit up, and the face of the ambassador appeared.

  "Captain, good news. I have just been asked to come to meet with the jurors on a 'matter of great importance,' I was told. In twenty minutes. I have also been told that I am the only one whom they will meet with—so I called you immediately to let you know. I will gain Bram's freedom over all else—is that our wish, Captain?"

  Tanner nodded. He would have liked to be there. But yes, that was the main thrust of the meeting. Bram's freedom.

  Ambassador Harmon smiled—not a big broad smile, but a small one. "I will gain that goal—and you should also know that there are Enkians in all the muse pyramids screaming at their leaders for protection against the RIM aggressors. Your exercise seemed to help—while I would have argued against, it had I known, it did cause some fears down here. I will add that to my bag of diplomatic tricks, Captain. Kudos," he said.

  Tanner smiled broadly and he wondered what the Enkians would think about tomorrow's planned exercise and the combined assault exercise the day after.

  "I will be back to you STAT, Captain—wish me luck," the ambassador said.

  "Sir, the Enkians need more than luck if they wish to have a planet should you not be successful. No doubt about that, Sir," he said and his voice was loaded with emotion as his fingers beat out the one, two ... one, two rhythm on his knee.

  #####

  In his quarters, Tanner sat at the desk and wished he could still get drunk. That would have made this time all the easier to handle, but alas, that single shot months back on the Barony Hospital Ship had cured his alcoholism.

  Still, anything was better than sitting and staring at Enki as it slowly rolled along in its orbit below the Atlas, the browns of the sands, the bands of green in its northern latitudes, and the white clouds much more prevalent up there.

  He played with a hangnail, gnawing at it with his teeth, worrying it away from his finger.

  The ambassador had been at the meeting for over an hour. And as yet, no word.

  Oh, for a Scotch, he thought. Or maybe something else? Alcohol was out. But there were drugs. Most simply made you high at first. Then the real price had to be paid. And that didn't appeal to him at all.

  How about love? They said that being in love was a high that was without parallel. He wondered if that was true. For a moment, he thought of Tibah, and he was sorry about how things had ended up; yet he had done what had to be done. The Lady came to mind then; he liked her, very much indeed. She was a Royal, and that was a whole different issue. Still, he thought that she liked him too, old as he was. That gave him a thought, as to what he was going to do to help celebrate his upcoming fortieth birthday. Maybe she could join him for a dinner or the like. Maybe ...

  He snorted. Here he was, making plans for a birthday with a Royal and his best friend was—BEEP!

  The console monitor beeped at him again, and he quickly told the AI to answer it.

  The ambassador's face came on screen, with no smile at all. He held out his hands, palms up—and then he smiled. "We had to give up the truth about the probe metal—what's their name for it—Xithricite. We had to also tell them the full story on that, which I did against my better judgment, but Qig is no idiot. He knew if we were pushing for an ore, that there was something up with that," he said and the smile was still there.

  Tanner nodded.

  "They have commuted the lieutenant's sentence from death to banishment for life. He is to never ever come back to Enki. Further—we also have gained a full fifty percent of the Xithricite," he said and smiled more broadly.

  Tanner nodded and asked, "And the lieutenant?"

  "Militia is in the process of delivering him back to the Atlas in the next little while. I suggested that they do just that—hope that's okay?"

  Tanner nodded and said, "Roger that, Ambassador."

  The ambassador went on. "So, we have a deal. Enki is a new member of the RIM Confederacy—oh, forgot to mention that Qor, the Words Muse head, was also at that meeting, and he concurs with all of this. Of course, it was him that held up the deal for FTL so that his muse would get that frigate, but I expect that should have been foreseen. In any event, all the ducks here are in a row—no pun intended, Captain."

  "So," Tanner said, "are we good to go? Once Bram is back onboard, I'd very much like to get back to the Barony, and that would be okay, right?" "We'd send down your own things from your quarters here on the Atlas, though, Ambassador," he offered.

  "Not needed—I took them with me down here to Enki just yesterday, figuring that you would want to hightail it out of here soonest. And yes, Captain, you are good to go. My thanks for all of your help, and a soft point? What happens on a diplomatic mission is different for each of same. This was no harder nor no easier than any other. You have my own personal thanks on your help and counsel too. Good man, Captain Scott," he said, and he half-saluted Tanner as he said that.

  Tanner nodded and clicked off the connection.

  Bram was safe and on the way back.

  He moved quickly now, leaving his quarters up on Deck Four, and loping along the deck corridor, he quickly went down the stairs two at a time and then turned forward to get to the bridge. As he entered, Lieutenant Com
mander Sheldon, the Science officer on the bridge, called out, "Captain on the bridge."

  Tanner waved off the salutes and took his seat. "Helm, plot me a course to the Barony, quickest and shortest, lad—and let me know when the candle is lit," he said. "XO, please have a squad of marines down in the landing bay—Lieutenant Sander is released and being delivered back to us in minutes."

  A huge hurrah came from every officer on the bridge. Tanner smiled and nodded to them as the crew hooted for a few more seconds.

  "Yes, good work by the RIM ambassador got him freed. Well, banished is the proper term ... never to be able to return to Enki—talk about a bonus too!" He smiled, as there were more hoots too, and nodded along as the XO started up a "Three cheers for the ambassador," and the bridge celebrated for a bit.

  Time to get a move on, he thought, back to the RIM ...

  #####

  Tanner kicked off the sheet and then lay on his side, feeling the cooling effect of evaporation as the sweat on his back slowly whispered away. He'd slept about an hour or so, and now he'd lain awake for more than two hours more, his mind working and working and keeping sleep at bay.

  He lifted up his head and punched his pillow, trying to get it puffier in the middle, and he flopped his head back down on the not-right pillow. He kicked one leg out from under the tail end of the sheet to try to cool off, and within two minutes, he was cold and had to pull the sheet back over him. He shivered for a moment until he warmed up.

  What am I going to do with my life? he thought in an existential moment.

  Wait, no ... If he remembered correctly from his philosophy course from almost twenty years ago, the existential part was not true. He wasn't looking at the very foundations of his life: whether this life had any meaning, purpose, or value, which was what the existential part referred to.

  Instead, what was bugging the hell out of him was his lack of real purpose—at least something he could hang his hat on as a goal in life.

  He didn't want to turn forty in a few weeks. He didn't want to sit out on life.

  He switched sides to lie facing the far wall and ignored the big photo he'd had his steward put up of the RN Marwick floating above some planet he couldn't remember.

  He wanted to fall in love and have a child or three. He wanted to find out if a captaincy was his ultimate navy rank.

  He pulled his arm out from below the pillow and draped it across his hip.

  He didn't want to feel like he was feeling right now.

  Scotch, he thought, would have made things so much easier. Put me in a glow where nothing really mattered that much.

  He rolled over on his back, pushing the sheet down to his waist, and threw an arm over his forehead.

  Life is difficult—no more so out on the RIM, I know. But still something to be considered ... like I don't have enough to worry about and fear.

  He sat upright when he thought about the word fear—and how the Lady had used it to describe those refugees on KappaD.

  More scared about what lay behind them than ahead.

  He rolled over, tucked his arm beneath his pillow once more, and tried for the hundredth time to go back to sleep.

  Epilogue ~

  Captain Abu al-Hasan leaned back on his captain's chair on the CN Pollux, smiled at the big face of his Caliph on the bridge view-screen in front of him, and nodded too. "Caliph, yes, we have gotten almost all that we were after—at a cost as you know that was in the range that you gave us to negotiate with as well," he said, and he ticked off the items one by one of his fingers.

  The citizens of the Caliphate were a tall alien race who were always over six and half feet tall, so sitting down even, they still looked taller than most. The Caliphate, a full member of the RIM Confederacy, was a realm with nine planets. There had been ten, but Olbia had revolted, and the upcoming referendum on their freedom was coming up soon too.

  The Caliph nodded and looked at his captain.

  The captain continued. "Sire, as you indicated, we were able to have private talks with the heads of all of the cults—well, they call them muses here on Enki. And each of them found something to ask for, for our support and help. Each of them was a hard set of negotiations, but all succumbed to the lure of spreading their cult—muses—within the RIM," he said, and the Caliph nodded.

  "Further, when we sat with the jurors—the group that really is the head of the planetary government here on Enki—they too were willing to negotiate. Mostly, I think that we were used to vet what work the ambassador had completed with them. They asked us to qualify every single item that they had worked out to join the Confederacy. But, as you surmised, they were more than willing to become the newest member of the Caliphate instead, once we made them a bigger offer than the ambassador could make. We gave them FTL, Caliph, and you were right, it was the deciding factor."

  He smiled at his Caliph, who just stared back at him solidly.

  The captain sat, and while nothing more was said, he grew nervous.

  He had followed the directions he had been given exactly. He had dealt with the Enkians in charge using his best ability and had for the most part been able to get what his Caliph had wanted—a new member of the Caliphate.

  He sat and fiddled with his leg, crossed over the other. It bounced and he pulled it down to set his foot firmly on the bridge deck.

  "Sir, have I done something wrong?" he asked quietly.

  The Caliph stared at him for another minute before speaking. "Captain, you have done fine—as you were directed to, and I'm pleased to see that we will have a brand new member of the Caliphate realm, which is now back to our original total of ten planets," he said as he smiled.

  "I think the Baroness has a surprise coming," he said to no one in particular as the connection with the Pollux was broken and the captain's screen faded to black.

  BOOK SEVEN OF THE RIM CONFEDERACY

  Ruined Memories

  Prologue ~

  It sat rock still, this large terraforming foundry with the dust of centuries on it’s skin. It should be moving as a part of it’s task, but instead it was unpowered. Wonder what she’d be like when she has power, the merchant marine third mate thought, as he yanked even harder on the cables. Attached to the big transformer that now sat alone on the skid dolly, the cables usually transferred the power to the unit, but not anymore. Or ever, the third mate thought—this terraformer had never even been turned on as far as anyone on his ship, the Scavenger, a merchant marine freighter, could tell. While this was their first trip to this terraformer, they’d already stripped one completely of everything salable in the past year and this was their number two foundry.

  Pretty easy to tell, he said to himself as he jammed a foot against the edge of the cable port and worried the lines back and forth trying to get them to unhook. When you land a terraformer, it moves. And it leaves a very noticeable trail behind it as it did it’s job of turning an uninhabitable planet into one that you could colonize. This one had only unmarked grass and weeds around it; it had never ever moved for as long as it had been here on the planet Memories.

  Probably part of it he thought as he chewed on his lip, he strained and then yanked and yanked harder again, is that this dumb planet, with no sentient s on it, was tucked in a pocked in the huge nebula that lay south of the RIM Confederacy. Between the RIM and the Pentyaan empire, the nebula was thick, heavily loaded with particulate matter—in fact a danger for most to enter. Not us, nor for that matter whomever had delivered all of these terraformers either; we found this planet almost a year ago. And we still raid the planet to steal equipment and rare earths and salvage whatever we can, time and time again.

  Pop-pop!

  The sound of the cables letting go somewhere behind the bulkhead was the first thing he felt as he stumbled over backwards and fell on the floor of the storage room. As he slowly got back up, he noted that the cables in his hand now ended with some kind of plugs that he’d been able to pull out of the connection hidden behind the bulkhead. He smil
ed as he coiled them up and then hung them on top of the transformer so that he’d be able to roll the dolly down the short corridor to his left and get it to where he could dump the whole thing out of the side port of the terraformer.

  Once it hit the ground, some of the crew would drag it towards the Scavenger and then hoist it up and into the hold. This transformer he knew, had more than six thousand credits worth of rare earth magnetics in it that they’d strip out during the trip back to the RIM and sell on KappaD and space the junk.

  Turning back towards the storage room, he looked inside and took a quick inventory of what was left. There were still three more of these transformers or whatever the hell they were called; three huge spools of some kind of fiber that he thought might have something to do with lasers maybe and more than dozens of some kind of bags of purple gel. No idea what it was for and they’d found out on KappaD on the last trip, no one wanted to buy them either. A huge round insulated column sat right in the middle of the floor that he knew was somehow connected to the laser and as he looked around it, he noticed something odd—a set of lights had suddenly lit up along one wall, in the ceiling. As he looked at that, the floor suddenly began to vibrate a little, then a little more.

  He felt a lurch and that scared him.

  A lurch meant—as any space man knew, that they were underway—but this was not a ship, it was a terraforming foundry.

  Someone had started up this huge arena sized machine and as he pounded down that corridor once more towards the side door, he could now see the very slowly moving ground drifting by.

  This thing is moving . . .he said as he knew it would soon be laser drilling down into the ground of Memories, with a laser that was more powerful than one might imagine. It had taken them almost six months to learn that they couldn’t salvage that on their first foundry they’d picked apart. They had learned that the laser was used to drill down up to three miles as it searched for what was on it’s AI list; ores of a certain type and radioactivity along with minerals that were needed for formation of atmospheric compounds that were also needed to get Memories ready for colonization.