Tales of the Federation Reborn 1

by Chris Hechtl

  Jerrica wasn't the only one to watch him go.

  == ^ ==

  It took weeks for the factory ship to arrive and weeks more to get Kitty sorted out. But not only did they repair the crash damage, but Oddie had wangled it to repair everything else that had gone wrong or out of synch on the ship. That had thrown the captain's timetable off, but he appreciated the effort once he realized the chief engineer's intent.

  It had also allowed the crew more time for liberty on the planet. The bitter cold wasn't much fun for some of the species. Two of the crew were injured in skiing accidents. Apeman broke his leg skiing but ended up hooking up with a rather pretty chimera nurse and ski bunny at the resort he'd been skiing at.

  Hurranna caught up with her mail and was surprised to get news of Jethro's marriage to a feline on the planet. When she finally worked through the backlog, she found out he had also become a father. “Lucky bastard,” she muttered over and over until Jane had confronted her. It was her bad luck that she couldn't arrange additional leave to go visit the kits and family before Kitty departed the star system.

  == ^ ==

  “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride,” Jerrica muttered, shaking her head. She took a pull of her beer. It was nice to be off duty, to unwind with someone. There wasn't much of an age gap and well, she wasn't up to putting up with testosterone crap from the boys’ club. Besides, Jane was familiar and the closest person she could call a friend.

  Even if she had to occasionally remind herself mentally that she had to treat her like any other subordinate in the wing in public.

  Jane wrinkled her nose. “What's that supposed to mean, boss lady?” she asked from where she was seated in the pilot's ready room. For once the two ladies had the room to themselves. Just about everyone was nuts about being in Protodon.

  “It means it sucks that we're the first carrier out of the yard but we got stuck on shitty details,” Jerrica grumped. “It sucks even more that Admiral Halsey got to get her spurs and we didn't. We still haven't,” she grumped, twirling the beer around by the neck of the bottle. She took another swig then set the empty bottle down on a coaster.

  “Someone has to pull the duty I suppose,” Jane said carefully, unfamiliar with playing devil's advocate.

  “True I suppose,” Jerrica replied. She glanced at the tablet near the beer bottle then picked it up and dropped it into her lap.

  “But I agree. We missed Fourth Fleet in Kathy's World and in Protodon. That stings.” Jane said in disgust. Catching the sorry stragglers from Fourth Fleet that had hypered in a few weeks ago wasn't real combat. The freighters were broken and hadn't offered any sort of fight. They'd tried to lumber away, but they hadn't gotten far. Prize crews had escorted them to planetary orbit for further processing. They'd reported in that the ships had been in terrible shape and most likely wouldn't be salvaged.

  “Yeah, it does,” Jerrica drawled, glancing at the tablet again. “The good news is, we get to kick ass with TF22 from now on.”

  Jane paused in her sip of beer to raise an eyebrow. “Oh? No durance vile in an empty star system? Why the change of heart?”

  “I suppose they decided they need us. Even though our ship isn't quite up to shipshape, she's on station and we are an experienced crew.”

  “True,” the young woman replied with a nod.

  “But, it's not without its pains I suppose,” Jerrica said. A lift of her eyebrow from her companion got her to expand after she exhaled noisily. “It seems the brass took note of how long we've been on station without relief.”

  “Leave? When we're supposed to do working-up exercise?” Jane asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

  “No, more's the pity. No, we get to lose people who are getting promoted,” Jerrica said in disgust. She waved a tablet. “I just got the memo yesterday. We, meaning I, get to pick the best to go on to become squadron commanders and even CAGs. Then I need to train up a shipment of noobs being shipped in to replace them. They arrive in a few days. Some are already here.”

  “Crap. Sucks to be you,” Jane said with a frown.

  “Yeah. And the people being promoted are going to miss out on our offense,” she said. Jane winced. “But, on the bright side, it's not just us. We're losing ground crew and the Kitty is losing people too, like the XO. He's going to get his own ship.”

  “Nice,” Jane said with a grin.

  “Yeah, I thought so too,” Jerrica said with a relaxed grin. “I get to bump some people up to take on squadron commander duties that will be opened up. I spent a bit of time soul searching on who to send.”

  Jane frowned thoughtfully. “Don't want to tear too many holes in the command structure before opening night, boss?”

  “Something like that,” Jerrica replied. “Though I suppose we'll have a couple months getting the noobs settled in. I guess I'm stuck in a rut too.”

  “What about the marines, ma'am?”

  “They are staying. Well, some of them. Deja is being promoted I believe. I'm not sure if they are shipping him back to Agnosta for a stint at MAWTS or if he's going to be given his own CAG slot on another ship or fortress.” She grimaced, then shrugged such considerations away. “Hurranna is someone I'm looking at to take his place. She's not a natural leader though. She's a proficient flyer but also not a natural. She still has a mechanical air I suppose you could say.”

  “Some people are that way. She's a cat.”

  “And cat's always land on their feet,” Jerrica replied. “So, if I toss her into it, I'm sure she can handle it.”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “Which brings me to you, Jane,” the CAG said, eying her. The young woman blinked then straightened her shoulders. “I was thinking of giving you a boot and letting you deal with another ship in Antigua since Harry is getting promoted and shipped out to a CAG slot in one of the new ships.”

  “Gee thanks,” the young woman said shaking her head.

  “I didn't think you'd appreciate the downtime,” Jerrica said. “So, you get to be a squadron commander of the Raptors,” she said, passing the tablet over to her. Tentatively Jane took it. “You'll get to keep a couple of your squadron mates as a nucleus, but the rest are moving on to bigger and better things. Lucky them. You are getting at least half of the noobs.”

  “Lucky me,” Jane muttered, glancing at the tablet.

  “The bump comes with a slight bump in rank,” Jerrica said with a slight grin. “But, you've got to past the exam first.”

  “Shit. I hate paperwork and tests,” Jane said with a shake of her head. “I just love to fly.”

  “Well, the higher you go, the more paper pushing you do and the less flying you get to do, I admit that. It sucks, I know. But we need you. You've got the youthful enthusiasm in check,” she grinned at her pilot's expression, “and you are a good leader. So, you can stay here, be a squadron commander since I think you can hack it, or …”

  “Or?” Jane asked when her boss left the threat hanging.

  “Or, I can ship you back to Antigua just before the offensive we're about to launch in Nuevo Madrid. You can be safe and sound on some freighter shining a seat with your ass again,” she grinned at the other woman's dyspeptic expression at that idea, “while you wait for reassignment.” She'd complained quite a bit about having to be shipped from Antigua to Pyrax to attend the academy and flight school. “Cheer up!” Jerrica said with feigned enthusiasm. “You'd get that leave you want but then you'd end up running a shuttle, or, oh, get to be on a recruiting poster, or …,” she tapped her finger against her cheek thoughtfully, “… or be in a training billet training the really green noobs … or oh, getting shipped again to Pyrax … or drawing fortress duty or shuttle duty … or …,” she grinned evilly as the young woman in front of her started to redden in anger and annoyance at her mocking diatribe of possible futures. “Of course sitting in the freighter you'd get all rusty. You'd lose your edge and well that doesn't look good on a report you know,” she said with a syrupy sweet but helpful tone of voice. />
  Jane's eyes flashed. “I hate you,” she said in disgust. “Okay, I give. I'm staying put,” she growled.

  “You'll take the job?” Jerrica demanded, eyes glittering with mirth and glee at getting her way.

  “Damn you, yes,” Jane sighed. “I'll do it.”

  “Good girl,” Jerrica said with a smile as she leaned over to tap the tablet. A link appeared to the lieutenant's exam. “Good news is, you've got the flight part down. Now you get to dredge up all the crap you forgot or tried to ignore in the academy. Stuff you thought you'd gotten away with not having to remember.”

  “I so seriously hate you now,” Jane breathed as the CAG grinned at her. She sat back as her thumb hovered over the icon. Finally, she pressed it.

  “Now I get to spread the love to the others,” Jerrica said with a triumphant air as she rose from her seat. “One of the few perks of my job I suppose,” she said.

  “You are so … oooh,” Jane said in mock outrage. “You are enjoying this a little too much you know,” she said darkly, studying the file as it opened up. Dread began to well within her. She hated paper learning. Her future of sitting there with a numb ass and headache for days seemed bleakly about to come true.

  What she had to put up with to keep flying she thought.

  “Don't worry, you won't drown in paperwork at your young age. I didn't. I'm pretty sure you can tread it if you keep up with it on a daily basis,” Jerrica said mock soothingly. Jane shot her a moderate glower then went back to staring at the offensive tablet.

  “Ta ta, enjoy your light reading,” Jerrica said from the hatch. She just missed being hit by a tossed pillow. She chuckled as she closed the hatch and went on her merry way.

  The Gladiator Pit

  Proofread by: Mike Kotcher, Tom Stoecklein, Wayne Gaskin, Thomas Burrows

  Cast:

  Marcus: Neochimp

  Tiberius: Neogorilla

  Sue: Neopolar bear

  Director: Tall, warden of gladiators

  Lomis: Assistant to the director

  Doctor Dame Lacey Mengla: Director of Biosciences

  For a Neochimp down in the dumps, beaten, tortured, starved, and chained, Marcus seemed rather sanguine about the situation. He'd long given up on feeling sorry for himself. Prayer had also been used and discarded; once you were done praying, you actually had to do something. The idea that someone would break in to save them might be a nice flight of fantasy to while away the time but it wasn't productive.

  Nor was attempting to escape while in transit anyway. They were in a sealed compartment with the human bastards on the outside controlling the life support. So, the only thing left was to sleep and meditate.

  “It used to be different, not like this,” Marcus murmured when they felt the heavy bumps and rocking motion that signaled their container had come to rest somewhere.

  “How do you know?” a bass voice asked. “You been here before?”

  Marcus snorted. “Hardly. My grandparents, though, they were born here decades ago. It used to be good. A pirate world, but it was higher tech than anywhere else—better than some of the crappy agro worlds that were starving. But then it all changed. First they said the humans turned on one species, then another. They worked through the various species one by one until only the apes were left. They had seen the writing on the wall like so many others so they'd scrimped and saved. They managed to flee but nearly too late.”

  “But you got caught.”

  “Obviously my family didn't flee far enough,” Marcus said in disgust.

  They looked up briefly when the Stygian darkness they had been plunged into for a nightmarishly long time was suddenly pierced by the mechanical sound of the hatch cracking open and light spilling in. Instinctively they ducked away from the pain the light brought to their optics. Marcus swore, grinding his eyes with his hand paws making the chains clink. His eyes watered.

  “Why not?” the Neogorilla asked softly.

  “Why? Why do you think?” the Neochimp snorted. “We, or I should say they, ran out of credits. The grandparents got my mother off when she was an infant. They got as far as Dead Drop before Grams gave birth to my Uncle Lois. They had to stop there. Then they had to scrape to live and feed them while trying to save for tickets for everyone.”

  “Obviously they didn't make it.”

  “No. Somewhere along the way, Mom met Axle and well, dun dun dun, I popped out.” He spread his hands as far apart as the chains would let him and making the Neogorilla snort in amusement despite their situation. “That made things even more complex. I bet they wished they'd used a rubber,” he said grinning. Another chuff from his audience. He always loved to work a crowd he thought absently. “And it turns out Horath owns all the shipping coming and going in this side of the sector. That would have been nice to have known!” he shook his head as the gorilla chuffed differently, this time in bitter agreement. “No one figured that part out for a looong time. When Grams found that out trying to get a set of tickets, it sort of screwed us. They turned her down and must have marked where we were.”

  “Yeah,” the Neogorilla grunted, then heaved a hearty sigh.

  “I'm not sure if they were doing me a favor or not. Had they found a way to keep going beyond Dead Drop, they could have left. But then Mom would have never met Dad, and I'd never have been born.” He scratched an itch with his index finger.

  “True,” the Neogorilla chuffed. “And for what we've gone through … the damn electric prods hurt!” He twitched his shoulders where Marcus could make out bald spots covered in half-healed scars. The gorilla silverback shook his massive elongated head and snorted again. “I'd love to get my hands on one of them. Just for a while,” he said, making wringing motions.

  Marcus wasn't the only one to chuff in amused agreement.

  The silverback Neogorilla snorted again and then turned wise eyes his way. “What's your name?”

  “Marcus. What's yours?”

  “Tiberius. Welcome to hell,” Tiberius said as the hatch finished cycling open.

  “On your feet scum!” A harsh human voice bellowed. There was a jerk on the chains linking their bodies together. “Or whatever you use for locomotion. Move or get dragged!” the voice said with a guttural laugh as the chain began to be winched outward into the blinding light.

  :---{|}=====>

  Sorting out the shipment took time. Each was quickly examined, given a cup of water and another of some sort of broth as they worked their way down the line, then on to what he overheard as the parade of shame.

  They weren't even allowed to wipe the shit and piss off themselves. He didn't know why. A shower would be nice he thought dreamily, looking ever so briefly to the clouds in the sky. A little rain—surely that wasn't too much to ask for? It might seem to add to their misery, but beggars couldn't be choosers, right? Right?

  But no rain answered his prayers. After a long moment, his nostrils dilated, and he went back to keeping his head down and doing as he was told.

  Slave Neos and grim human chimeras wearing collars with blinking lights yoked their upper limbs with heavy metal bars to keep their arms up and secured, then they were chained in a coffle and led in a procession through the streets from the spaceport to wherever the hell they were going.

  Marcus was glad he wasn't behind the one naga in the group. That swishing tail would have been a pain in the ass to dance around the whole way. He was also unsure if his shortish legs would be able to keep up; he expected a cramp from long disuse at any time.

  Not that he could stop and ask someone for a break he thought bleakly.

  To the left and right of him the streets were lined with jeering people, all humans. He learned quickly to keep his head down, brown eyes on his feet to keep himself from tripping. Some threw fruit or trash; others just glared or hurled curses their way.

  The occasional miscreant would rush up to spit in someone's eye or piss on them. A few dumped buckets of awful smelling waste from above.

  Any who attemp
ted to fight back were immediately set upon by the guards. They were beaten, lashed, or electrocuted for their defiance.

  The sullen group took their licks as they were marched into a stone wall prison. There they were hosed off by laughing half-drunk humans. Each alien or Neo turned away to try to avoid the stream. Most didn't succeed very well.

  Then the final sorting began of the dripping sorry, half-starved, half-mad sapient beings. Humans in uniform and in medical smocks made their way through the line. One carried a tablet like a syncopathic secretary, dutifully jotting down notes as the leader used a crop to poke at the prisoners to get them to stand up or look up.

  :---{|}=====>

  “Why so many blasted Neos lately?”

  “The Neos were the last to be set upon by the mob, Director. The stubborn and foolish ones were the last to flee. They didn't get far,” Lomis said dutifully. He knew his boss knew this but apparently needed the occasional reminder.

  Not that it mattered. He'd get the same complaint when the next shipment came in and the next one after that.

  “I see that. Just a bit of variation in the ranks would be nice. This lot is running nearly half ape,” the director said, tisk tisking. His nose went into the air in disgust at their ragged appearance.

  “Yes, sir,” his assistant said, checking the tablet to be sure.

  “Can't have that. We'll have to find others to amuse our people. Make a note of that, Lomis; we'll have to keep some of the aliens alive longer somehow,” he ordered, waving his crop indifferently.

  What he really meant was that the apes were a little too human. A few were pretty close to human with their bald scalps or nearly furless condition. From a distance it would appear as if they were indeed human, which might cause dangerous sympathies stir in the hearts of the public. He couldn't afford that.

  “I'm not sure where we'll find the exotic replacements the mob wants, sir. They are getting harder and harder to come by,” the assistant warned carefully.