Tales of the Federation Reborn 1

by Chris Hechtl

  The marine's eyes flared in anger. He made certain he was recording the conversation with his implants. He also made certain his voice was steady as he continued it. His temper was threatening to get out of hand, and he had strict orders to play nice with the locals.

  “He apparently brokered an agreement with Lieutenant Chaing. They would come in as long as they were allowed to stay together.” He shook his head.

  “That is very noble of the lieutenant but it simply cannot be done. The children will be settled in foster homes as soon as practicable for those with the minimum social skills. The youngest might adapt well. The rest,” she sniffed, “I'll have my hands full with them I suppose. At least until they are of legal age and the checks stop. Then I'll have to turn them out for younger broods,” the woman said.

  The captain was appalled. He scowled, fighting to bark at the woman and vent his growing anger and helpless feeling over the situation. He felt a level of empathy for the kids that he hadn't before. He also felt like they might have been better off alone.

  And that feeling made him feel something else, guilt.

  The captain opened his mouth to reply but a sudden scrabbling sound and snuffling under his improvised desk made him pause. The captain knelt and then looked underneath to see a human child there. The little brown-haired girl had pigtails and had her head down in a seated fetal position. She clutched at a small, light brown and mottled teddy bear in her arms. “Come out,” he encouraged her. “We're not going to hurt you, but I might step on you by accident,” he said.

  “Let me …”

  “No, I got it. I've dealt with kids before,” the captain replied, keeping his voice light and level. The little girl shook her head. He reached for her, but suddenly the small bear in her arms reacted yowling and wiping at his hands with extended claws.

  Shocked he yanked his hands back before getting bitten. During his retreat the little girl quickly scrambled out from under the desk and then ducked under the tent wall to escape with bear.

  “What the hell?” he demanded, cradling his wounded hand. “That's a real bear cub! A Neobear!”

  “See? Animals! The animals need to be put down or …,” the woman said stridently until he turned a full force glare on her.

  “That was a Neobear. One very young I bet. Not an animal,” he said coldly. She stopped and just stared at him. “Not an animal,” he said again, ever so softly.

  She nodded jerkily.

  ^<(>^<)>^

  Suddenly the camp broke out into chaos. They heard raised voices, then scrambling, which alerted them that something was going on. Both of them headed for the tent door.

  Just before they got to the entrance, the voices picked up in pitch and volume. The captain held up a restraining hand as garbled reports came in over his link. His clerk came in and waved him outside. “Sir, you've got to come out; the kids are going batshit.”

  “Shit,” Captain Lyon muttered coming out. He bellowed for order, but the kids ignored it, calling and moving with speed. They slipped out of adult grips, distracted others, kicked shins or groins in their quest to escape.

  The social woman grabbed the girl Gracy and tried to hold onto her. The girl slipped out of her jacket and was away with a cold look over her shoulder.

  The woman stood there staring after her.

  When the kids were away, only the leader and the animals remained. The captain stared at him.

  “I told you, as a unit,” the boy growled. There were subsonics in that growl that a normal human couldn't do. A chimeran then Captain Lyon realized with a detached corner of his mind. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Something boiled in his gutt and ants crawled up and down his spine. It was all he could do not to draw his sidearm.

  “Son …”

  “I told you before, I'm not your son.”

  “That may be but look. We're only trying to help. You can't live out there on your own. We're here to protect you,” Joshua implored.

  “Help?” the boy laughed scornfully, somehow growing taller. His knees unbent, his shoulders straightened. He stood tall, only slightly shorter than the captain. Miss Trunchbull was taken aback by the sudden change, the being in their midst. The boy took off his glasses. Eyes glowed at them balefully. Strange eyes, pupils gold and oval like a cat but the whites were a glossy black like a shark.

  “We take care of our own,” he growled. Black eyes turned to gaze with cold contempt at the captain. Slowly they slitted. As the sun went down, the dying light made them glow brighter somehow. His skin seemed to darken, sucking in the dying light until it was a reddish black. Long bone claws emerged from the back of his hands.

  “You have been looking for me. Here I am. I am El Diablo; I take care of my own,” the young man thundered like something elemental. A chimera most definitely the captain thought with a detached corner of his mind. The baggy clothes had been a hell of a disguise, letting the teen or young adult masquerade as an adolescent. The wind picked up, and his shaggy hair ruffled. Long pointed ears pricked from under the hair. They too stood out, disguise discarded in the heat of the moment.

  The breath caught in many around the camp as the animals stood on hind legs. The sled dogs growled. Blake growled, ears back as the wolves showed their true colors. Captain Lyon turned to the side enough to see one was holding a knife. The cougars yowled. Even for ones so small they bared teeth and claw and showed who they truly were. Even the lynx hiss-spat and clawed the air in defiant challenge. But his eyes returned to the leader, El Diablo unmasked.

  The leader had small satyr horns on his forehead, a series of them under his hair in a paired row going from front to back. He smiled a toothy smile with long canine teeth that they hadn't noticed before.

  The third set of his sharp teeth were set longer and pointed up and inward like a demon. He had a long, rat-like tail with a spade on the end shaped like the devil. To Captain Lyon's shock the shirt lifted and long bat wings unfurled. They flexed in the night air, then seemed to stabilize him as he crouched. They partially furled after a moment, but he looked ready to fly at a moment's notice.

  The young man's knees were jointed differently than his, more in company with the legs of a dog or cat with the short thigh and long foot. It looked like a double knee joint, but he knew differently.

  The marine officer realized they had seriously underestimated the kids. They hadn't even checked the animals he thought with a pang. A troop of half feral Neos right under his nose. No wonder the pirates were torn to shreds. They had underestimated them. He had underestimated them.

  “No one fire. They are not hostiles. Remember the Rules of Engagement, people. We're here to help them,” the captain said, broadcasting the order over the implant tactical link just to be sure everyone understood it. He didn't want any friendly fire incidents. He knew he was hand tying his marines but damn it …

  Their initial temptation to stun them had faded. There was no way to get them all now that many had escaped. His hesitation was allowing them to escape, but he knew better. If he forced the situation, if he caught them, then what? He'd have to turn them over to Trunchbull, and they were likely to tear the woman apart and then leave. No, it was apparent that they were determined to leave on their own terms. So be it. But he could still try to talk them out of it or at least leave them an out to come back.

  He continued to study the young man, wondering briefly what he was going to do. “You don't have to run. You don't have to live a hand-to-mouth existence. We can help; that's why we are here. We can give you a better life,” he said quietly. “All of you. I'm sorry I didn't see you for what you were sooner,” he said.

  “We take care of our own,” El Diablo said firmly. He hand signed and the Neos fell back, dropping to all fours with backward looks and looped off into the night forest.

  “I've killed dozens of pirates. So have they. Don't make me kill your people. You adults are all alike; you judge and order without thinking. Leave us alone or you will regret it. Briefly,”
he growled, making a show of flexing his claws. He seemed to gather himself and then jumped, making them flinch as he somersaulted backwards in the air before he twisted and unfurled his wings to fly off into the night.

  “You aren't pirates, but you aren't better than us,” a dog growled softly from the tree line. They could see glittering eyes in the dark. “Leave us be,” he said fading into darkness. His eyes and shape lingered with their enhanced senses before he turned and dropped to all fours to run off behind the pack.

  The MPs stood and stared off at them. “Sir, should we follow?” Corporal Naysmith asked. “Sir? Captain Lyon?”

  “Do we go after them?” Blake asked, sounding like he didn't want to do so.

  “No,” the captain said slowly after a long moment as he stared at the speck in the dark sky. “No.” He shook his head slowly.

  ^<(>^<)>^

  “Sir, we've run a quick inventory on what's missing,” a private reported an hour after the perimeter had been secured. “Most of the weapons were still in the armory. The pack has taken medical supplies, food, and unsecured weapons and small objects,” the private finished.

  “They used us?” the corporal asked, blinking in surprise. “Thieves? That is all this was about? A free meal and theft?”

  “So it would seem. Oh, undoubtedly they were checking us out too. I understand now why the kids were kept aloof, why the young ones were kept busy. The older ones didn't want them or themselves to form attachments. They probably kept reminding them they weren't going to stay long. That they weren't truly safe here.”

  “That's sick, sir.”

  “I think they've been on their own for so long that's what got into them. That they can only trust themselves and each other. And yes, it's wrong.” He frowned bleakly, wishing he'd gotten through to them. “But back to what you were saying, I'm betting they needed the supplies. Remember Garax? The kid who had a seizure?” the captain asked. The corporal nodded. “That seizure medication isn't easy to find I bet. They also wanted to learn about us. That much is obvious now,” he said.

  The sergeant nodded ruefully. He remembered shooing out several kids from the HQ tent with the map projections and stuff. They had probably done their best to memorize things. After a moment the corporal nodded thoughtfully as well. “I think they might’ve stayed had we not pushed them,” the captain said, hands behind his back, staring at the report he was going to have to finish writing. “They might have broken down over time, formed attachments, opened up. That's probably why Red, this El Diablo, broke it off when he did. He might have seen his power base eroding. No one likes that helpless feeling.” He shook his head again. “I'm just glad no one was hurt or killed.”

  “Yeah. It could’ve gone worse,” the sergeant said, turning a baleful eye on the civilian female. The woman was still gibbering, still trying to understand what she'd just witnessed. From her expression and the medic near her trying to get her to calm down, it was going to be a while. She'd hyperventilated and was near hysterics once El Diablo had left. She shook so badly she was slopping her drink around. After a moment she threw it away and started ranting again. They might have to sedate her he thought cheerily.

  “The enemy of my enemy isn't necessarily our friend apparently,” the supply private murmured.

  “Yes, which we can thank them for I suppose, for their restraint,” the captain replied, ever aware of what the kids could have done when the marines had let their guard down at night. He shuddered mentally at the unpleasant thoughts. Had it gotten ugly during the confrontation and shots had been fired, it would have been nasty. He would have had a hard time living with himself after killing a kid. Fortunately, it hadn't come to that.

  “You think we'll see them again, sir?” the sergeant asked.

  “Them possibly. But I doubt it. Their handy work? Now that I'm sure of,” the captain murmured as he watched the sun rise.

  Kittyhawk

  Proofread by Jory Gray, Carlos d'Empaire, Mike Kotcher, Thomas Burrows

  CAST:

  Captain: Lieutenant Commander Nax promoted to commander.

  XO: Lieutenant Zir'cc, Veraxin.

  Ensigns Orville and Wilbur: Two class II dumb AI assigned to ship. Wilbur handles ship operations; Orville handles flight ops and flight duties with the wing.

  First Lieutenant Oddie: Neobeagle, chief engineer. Can smell an electrical fault before the computers pick up on it.

  Ed Mack: Lieutenant, call sign Mackerel.

  Brewster Lopez: Call sign Rooster, first lieutenant, First Squadron commander.

  Harry Manning: Call sign Ape Man, first lieutenant, Second Squadron commander (replaces Jerrica).

  Jane Darling: Daughter of Wendy Darling from Mariah’s Mischief, lieutenant junior grade, pilot, call sign Sweety Pie. Fresh out of academy flight school. Squadron Two (raptors).

  Jerrica Wilder: Lieutenant commander and commander aerospace group. Former asteroid pilot from Pyrax. Did a brief stint on various ships and fortress, call sign Rabid.

  Ezra Kedson: Mouthy pilot, lieutenant junior grade, call sign Milkman.

  Alfonzo Gonzalez: Lieutenant junior grade, call sign Gonzo.

  Ferris Dorniger: First lieutenant, call sign Paperboy (we deliver), Bomber Squadron commander.

  Hurranna: Staff sergeant, promoted to warrant officer 1.

  Deja: First sergeant, Third Squadron, promoted to warrant officer 2.

  Chatterbox: Deja's copilot.

  Cleo: Call sign Zipper, Hurranna's copilot.

  Lieutenant Commander Yeager: Former commander aerospace group. Wife had baby. On extended leave, will be assigned John Paul Jones in three months.

  Chief Petty Officer Joe Gray: Superstitious. Leaves ship muttering about glad to be free of her curse.

  Lieutenant Commander Jerrica Wilder smoothed her hair back and then fluffed it before checking herself in the mirror. She smiled slightly, then tried to school her face into the proper professional mask. She wasn't fooling herself let alone anyone else; she was too damn eager—excited, very excited. Also a little nervous, it was a lot of responsibility to take on. She shook herself, then clenched her fists a few times to get her eagerness under control. Well, here goes, she thought to herself as she adjusted her flight wings. She nodded once at her image and then went out.

  She'd been a raw recruit only a couple of years ago. She'd gotten so tired of playing bumper boats with rocks, garbage hauler, or shuttle chauffeur that she had needed a new challenge, and she'd been lucky enough to get it.

  She was a lifer; she admitted that to herself—a careerist. She'd expected to spend that time in the cockpit but now new challenges were presenting themselves to her. One she wasn't sure she was up for, but she had no intention of backing down from them.

  == ^ ==

  Lieutenant Junior Grade Jane Darling saw her squadron commander heading to the ready room and hurried to follow. She missed mom and dad and the Mariah's Mischief, but not so much anymore; there were too many challenges now. She had decided to take advantage of the military's offer of a free college education with every ten-year hitch. She'd gotten into flight training right off out of the abbreviated ROTC and OCS courses because she was such an experienced pilot. She'd barely passed on a warrant's posting; the paper learning had been brutal to someone who'd spent their life learning practical lessons in the cockpit. Learning the abstracts involved had been a lot less fun than the hands-on.

  She had done her tour though, but like many pilots she had signed on without the desire to fly cargo or people. She had wanted to strap on a fighter. Fortunately for her, her age and reflexes along with her years of flight experience had rocketed her to the top of the limited number of fighter pilot slots. She'd aced the practical training in three months, run through her brief hazing time on the Gaston jump point fighter fortress, and was now ready and eager to take on her new duties as an assistant squadron commander on CEV-001.

  Jerrica had been awesome to take her under her wing. The older woman was patient and wise; she
'd given her time to get sorted out. She'd put up with Jane's hatred of paper learning and taught her a few tricks on how to deal with it. She'd even greased the wheels to get her on the recent promotions list to LTJG.

  When Jerrica seemed to pause to check something out in an adjoining corridor, she squeezed past quickly, murmuring an apology as she went. She picked up the pace, not quite a run but definitely high stepping over the knee knockers as she made her way to the ready room. She didn't want to be late for the new CAG's arrival and make a wrong first impression.

  == ^ ==

  Jerrica turned to see Jane take off past her. She smiled a slight smile of understanding and acceptance. Jane was eager, quite good, though she had a major problem with paperwork still. She had started to take on some small teaching roles to help out too, which had surprised and pleased her. It was why she'd put the girl up for her most recent early promotion.

  Normally Jane wouldn't have been kept on the ship due to the regs on nepotism. But the young woman had squeaked through the tests just barely, and a quiet word from Chuck had allowed her to stay.

  A squadron commander had been nice, but CAG … now she was on a roll she thought. Not that there was much to it, after all, there were only three squadrons on the ship. Four once the incoming marine squadron found a way to squeeze on board.

  The previous CAG Lieutenant Commander Chuck Yeager had frequently broken them into half squadrons for training purposes. It was said that everyone on the roster would someday be a squadron commander or CAG. She could believe it; she'd seen people cycle through the ship like shit through a goose. Many had soared up the chain of command elsewhere to take on squadron command duties on the fortresses or even limited CAG duties on some of the larger ships. She was living proof that there was no glass ceiling if you applied oneself she thought with a slight frown as she allowed a pair of techs carrying something rather bulky and heavy to pass her. She reached down and checked her insignia again. A buff with her sleeve and she was moving again with renewed purpose.