by Frank Carey
Torren looked up. "Engineering, check!"
Christa looked up. "Networking, check!" Marta noted that Trent was standing right behind her as if he actually understood what she was doing. Hell, Harm barely understood what she did.
"My turn?" I asked. Harm smiled. He knew my gleeful look.
"Yep," Trent said as he handed me the control rig.
I put the rig on and waited.
"Now, for something really new," Trent said as he took me by the hand and led me to a wide circular platform sitting in the middle of the stall floor. It was about two meters in diameter and it glowed with a blue light. "This is a repulsor platform. It allows you to control Brenda without lateral movement. It will feel like you are moving about, but you’ll be stationary."
Harm walked over and nonchalantly jumped up on the device. His feet never touched the surface. Instead, he floated there. He took a step, but didn't move forward. "Damn! I swear I'm walking around. Micro repulsors?"
Bobby nodded. "Older versions put you, the driver, in a spherical steel cage. We replace the cage with a repulsor net.
Harm jumped off and I jumped in. So, they finally commercialized this damn thing. I remember when Gloria, Harm's adopted cousin and CEO of Elven Industries, Ltd., first supplied these to the EMEF for testing. Put one in a holoprojector field and training became ultra-realistic. Of course, I can't tell anyone since those tests were top secret. Wait a minute, that means that no one except Losira, Royce, and Team One know this fact either. Nice...
"Activate her," I said.
Shenda nodded to Bobby, then activated her console while he did his. I pressed the power switch on the harness, and I was in like Flynn.
I walked Brenda out onto the practice floor, and like before, I ran her through a series of warm-up moves to get the feel of her range of motion along with her strengths and weaknesses. Bobby and Trent had already briefed me and Christa, but a briefing is one thing; taking control is something different.
Soon, I was back to flips, turns, and leg-overs. Brenda was as smooth as Brawler was strong. I realized that the boys had tuned her for agility at the expense of raw power. To test my theory, I took her into the boxing world with jabs, hooks, uppercuts, and roundhouse hits while maintaining my arms up in a defensive position. I stopped when Brawler walked out in front of me in garde anglaise position. I did the same, signaling a round of slow sparring. Brawler and I duked it out for forty minutes, working our way through fisticuffs, boxing, mixed martial arts, and somethings I thought only the EMEF used. The gong signaling the end of the last round sounded. Brawler and I stopped and performed the Bao Quan while bowing to one another before stepping off the practice floor. That's when I heard the applause from the audience that had gathered during the match. I stepped off the platform and grabbed a towel from my grinning husband.
"Who was driving Brawler?" I asked as I sat down and toweled off. Damn, I haven't felt this good in a long time. Harm pointed to Trent. The lad stood there with one of Harms control bands in his hand while trying to decide what to say. I made it easy for him. "Son, you can teach me a few things. Thanks for the workout."
Trent smiled, but the smile turned to a frown as I heard clapping coming from the outside entrance to the stall. I turned around and froze as my blood went cold. "Frasier," I said as I recognized the Tralaskan male standing in the doorway.
"Hello, Marta. I hope there are no hard feelings," he said with that damn smile of his. If I only had a knife…
Chapter 15 - Subterfuge
I pounded three times on the team captain’s hatch.
"Come," a deep voice yelled from the other side. I walked into the room and stood at attention.
"Lieutenant Marta McMurphy reporting for duty, sir!" I barked.
"At ease, L-T," the large elf behind the desk ordered as he finished writing something in a journal. He stood up and looked down at me with a stare that could peel paint from the hull of a close-approach solar probe.
Then he broke into a huge smile. "Marta!" he yelled as he came around the desk to give me a huge hug.
"Hey, Royce," I said as I hugged him back. Capt. Royce Aymar, cousin to my ex-husband and my best friend in this universe. We had trained together back when we were with the League Space Marines. "I heard about your last command. Their stories are told around every squad bay, inspiring every new recruit to greatness."
"Aye, I spent many a night writing poems and songs about them."
"I hear congrats are in order. You and Queen Losira are now bonded?"
"Aye! And Gloria is now back in my life, as are you. So, Marine, ready to show these recruits how it's done the right way?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" I barked, snapping to attention and saluting the proper way. It was like coming home again.
###
The Elf Marine Expeditionary Force was roughly patterned after Earth's French Foreign Legion combined with the concept of a Marine Corps unit, i.e. the rapid delivery of force anywhere in the League. The EMEF was broken up into small teams consisting of a team leader, second in command, and three or more specialists. A team went in, assessed the problem and either solved it or prepared for the arrival of a larger, long-term force.
I entered the League Space Marines Officer Candidate School on my seventeenth birthday and was assigned to Master Sargent Royce Aymar, who unbeknown to me, was the cousin to my soon-to-be-husband Harmon Aymar. Royce and Harm's sister, Tannith ended up helping my daughter, Aerith, and me when my marriage to Harm went sideways. Now, I found myself standing next the big elf at the center of the gym's practice floor, facing a group of twenty team candidates from which we choose members for teams one through four.
"Ten-hut!" I barked in my best command voice.
The group snapped to attention, each and every one of them. So far, so good.
"I want to introduce my new Second, Lt. Marta McMurphy," Royce said in a voice that could cut through hull plating. "I want you to understand one thing about Lt. McMurphy: She survived my training. Not only did she survive, she went beyond it. Now, the L-T is going to demonstrate basic Marine fighting skills to each and every one of you. Grolsch! Front and center!"
A lanky Sokuhl female left the ranks to join me in the middle of the practice floor. She was young, about my age, which meant that she was missing a few key pieces of natural plating. Before she came to a stop, I had mapped out all of her natural soft spots. Hit some of them the right way and her heart stops. Hit others and she folds like a house of cards. From her stance, I could tell she was either too arrogant to care, or she had a death wish. Five minutes later, she was on the ground, gasping for air while her right arm was paralyzed. After the exercise, I would take her aside to explain things, but for now, I moved on to my next victim—make that the next recruit.
Eighteen recruits later, I found myself facing the third of three Tralaskan males while number one and number two lay nearby, groaning from their injuries. This one's name was Rinze Frasier, another lost Tralaskan scion looking for a life away from mommy and her sisters.
I went into an en garde position, a signal for him to begin the match. He should have gone into a matching position, instead he lunged at me, screaming. OK, a little unconventional, but I gave him points for showmanship. I swept my right foot to the side, quickly bending my left knee, while driving my fist into his sternum from below. He fell unconscious to the ground as I stepped out of his way. I looked up at Royce.
"What do you think?" he asked, his arms crossed in thought.
"Grolsch needs to lose the attitude, and Frasier needs to lighten up, otherwise, I can work with them."
Royce smiled. "Let's see how you feel in six weeks."
###
It wasn't until after Segue Six that my error in judgment became readily apparent. Just after the Septar dropped us off at Ventos Prime, Royce called me into his office. I rapped three times as per custom, then waited.
"Come!" Royce yelled from inside. Something about his voice bothered me.
I
stepped inside and found Frasier standing off to one side flanked by two Katalans in suits. I didn't know men's suits came in that size. A human woman flanked by two human males stood off to Royce's side. I walked over and stood at attention in front of the desk. "Lt. Marta McMurphy reporting as ordered, sir!"
"At ease, Lieutenant. Marta, I would like you to meet Ciara Devlin, Director of Operations at the Cube."
I reached over and shook the woman's hand. She was about my height, but built like a gymnast with raven-black hair. She was holding a box.
"Lt. McMurphy," Ciara said without preamble. "Second Lieutenant Frasier is accused of crimes against the League and violations of the EMEF Uniform Code of Conduct. We need your help in securing evidence that may exonerate him or convict him. Your help is voluntary. You can stay and help or leave without consequence or repercussion."
I looked at Royce and saw the anger in his eyes. "Ma'am, you have my complete cooperation," I said as I glanced at Frasier. He refused to look me in the eye. That was not good.
One of the agents flanking Dir. Devlin placed an ancient notebook computer on Royce's desk and powered it up. I remember seeing one like it in a museum. “What is Lt. Frasier charged with?" I asked.
"Conspiring with the enemy," Ciara said. "We have evidence that he gave away your position to the Segue Six separationists in return for ten million credits and guaranteed escape from the planet."
My knife was at his throat before she could complete her sentence. "You did this? To your team? Speak!"
He looked at me. "It would have worked if that madman hadn't shown up in that ship."
"Lieutenant, before you cut his throat..." Ciara said calmly.
I looked at her and saw she was holding out a red ball, like the ones you use in table tennis. Only this one had a black glyph on it.
It was one of Harmon's hacker balls. "But... But, he's dead," I said as I lowered my knife.
"Yes, I know, but we need it to crack the encryption on this computer and only three people in the known universe can activate it. One is dead, one is unavailable, which leaves you."
"What? I don't understand."
"Your ex-husband put a genetic lock on this device, which only you he and one other person can open. All we want is for you to place your finger on the glyph. The device will take care of the rest."
"Harmon made this?" I asked. I always assumed he bought them from some hacker he knew.
Harmon made many things. Please, just touch the top," she said as she held out the ball.
I reached out and touched the glyph. Nothing happened. "I guess it..."
The ball leapt out of Ciara’s hand and landed in the middle of the laptop's keyboard. As I watched, tentacles emerged from its sides and embedded themselves in the spaces between the keys. The ancient computer's screen lit up with colors, shapes and lights, then it went black before displaying a modern desktop. Finished, the ball leapt back into its box, closing the lid behind it.
Royce reached over and turned the computer toward him. He brought up several files, then handed it to Ciara. "I've seen enough. Get him out of my sight," he said.
"Thank you, Captain, Lieutenant. I promise you, he will not bother you again."
"Director, you said Harmon built many things..." I said, unsure what I wanted to ask.
She looked at me with pity in her eyes. "He built the ship that rescued you. I can't tell you anything else. Good day, Lieutenant," she said as she walked out of the room behind the others.
I looked at Royce, not knowing what to do. "Royce?" I asked, forgetting rank and everything else.
He got up and walked around the desk to give me a bear hug. "Harm's dead. Leave it at that," he said.
I tried to, but part of me refused to believe it. It wasn't until Maranta Five that I learned the truth.
Chapter 16 - Meet and Greet
I stared at Frasier as I would an old piece of fruit I found behind the fridge--one part disgust and one part wonder. "Why aren't you in prison?" I asked. "Or better yet, dead?"
"Marta, Marta, Marta," he said. "Ever hear of barter?"
"You bought your way out of the slammer?" I asked, shocked at the very thought of someone getting away with such a heinous crime as his.
"What can I say? I had valuable information."
"Why are you here, mister?" I growled.
"I'm the suit driver for Team Kimbra."
"That's impossible. My mother would never allow anyone other than Benton Strobe drive Tayla." Trent exclaimed.
"Your mother had no choice. Benton left unexpectedly and I was the only experienced driver available. Imagine my surprise when I saw your name suddenly appear on the roster. Do you really think you can win?"
I walked and stood toe to toe with this maggot. This traitor. The man who almost got my team, my husband, and me killed. "I kicked the shit out of you once, and I will do it again. Pray you lose your match, because if you don't, you'll be facing one pissed-off, EMEF-trained broad with anger issues."
He swallowed and took a step back.
"How can I get a piece of the action?" Harm said as he stepped forward, keeping his body between Frasier and me while persuading Frasier to back toward the stall door.
"What? What action?" Frasier sputtered.
"You know, betting action. What if I want to bet against your team in the semi-final? Where can I place the bet?" He asked while taking another step, still smiling and still holding his tea.
"Mori, the bookie. He'll take any bet, but you'll lose on both counts," the lad said as he found himself in the corridor.
"Cool. See you at the finals, then," Harm said as he slammed the door in the ex-Marine's face. "So that's what he looks like."
"Wait a minute," I said as if figured things out. "You were there?"
"Where?" Bobby and Christa asked in unison. That got a chuckle out of Trent.
"Your mom will explain later. As for your question, Wife, yes, I was on the roof, listening in through the hacker ball. I was under orders not to leave the cockpit, especially when that idiot was in the lounge."
"You really programmed your hacker ball to respond only to you and me?"
Harm threw the ball to Trent. He caught it and held it up to look at it. "Tap the glyph," Harm said. Trent did and nothing happened. Harm nodded toward me, a cue for Trent to throw it over. I snatched it out of mid-air and tapped it. Tentacles shot out. I tapped it once more and they retracted. "Who's number three?" I asked as I threw it back to him.
"Aerith. She was away at school, remember?"
I stopped and stared at him, realizing I had forgotten about Aerith and school. Dead, he knew more about our daughter than I did. "How long were you keeping an eye on us?" I asked.
"Every chance I got from the moment I got out of Cube Central Hospital until the moment I died on Maranta Five," he said while taking me in his arms.
"Awww," the three kids said as he kissed me.
###
Kissing my husband is good, but it doesn't help with the training, so I pushed him away and told him to do what he did best: get me information about the three remaining teams, their weaknesses and their strengths. With a final kiss, he was off to work his magic while I sat down with my team to discuss the data from the training session.
Each training stall--stall was a misnomer being that the room we were in was a couple thousand square feet in area--was equipped with a conference room where the members of the team could sit down and discuss the events of the day. I grabbed the kids and sat them down. We were running out of time, and Frasier was a complication I didn't need.
The three of them looked at me. I've seen that look from Royce when I was under his command, and I had done something he found particularly baffling.
"Frasier was a member of EMEF Team One. He found it necessary to betray us on a mission and almost got the team killed. I helped get him court martialed," I explained.
"And Dad knew about this?" Bobby asked.
"It was the Segue Six mission. Tre
nt, all I can tell you is Harm was instrumental in saving the whole team and turning the tide of a revolution in the process."
Trent's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Who or what is a Harm?"
Oops. Dammit, I just can't get used to calling Harm by his birth name, Lucien. He is and will always be Harmon to me. "Sorry, I mean Lucien. Harm was an old nickname he used when we first met, and I still let it slip out on occasion."
Trent seemed to accept the semi-truthful explanation, so we moved on. "Christa, how's the network look?"
"Great! No glitches and bandwidth to spare. Bobby?"
"The new parts are working perfectly. Mom, how does the suit feel?"
I thought for a moment. "No problems. Response times are good, and I think we've got the strength dialed in. Trent, good work with Brawler. You really have the touch."
"Thanks, General," he said with a smile. OK, I like the kid. The idea of a self-depreciating Tralaskan scion is something I find appealing.
"Do we have any information on the remaining three teams?" I asked while sitting down.
"Your wish is my command," Harm said as he walked through the door. He handed each of us a stack of three dossiers, one for each team.
"That was quick," I said. I opened the one on top, tomorrow night's victim, I mean competitor.
"I probably shouldn't tell the details. Just don't answer the door if you hear angry knocking."
Ah, a Harmon special. My husband can switch from Prince of Ventos Prime to OffSec operative at the drop of a hat. "So, what am I looking at?"
"Team Nina..."
"Are these teams all named after women?" I asked while glancing at the other folders. Every one of the teams, ours included, were named after a woman.
"Of course," Trent replied.
Harm shook his head. "One of the Ventosian Soccer teams is called the Angry Unicorns. Oh, and none of my ships are named after women, but Shenda's is named after Marta."
