Fortunately, for Mark, the door unlocked for Luke.
“Musashi,” Luke sent privately through his InnerBuddy. His focused words and sub-vocalization becoming a message. “Get your ass ready. I need someone’s ass to kick.”
“With pleasure!” Musashi replied. “I will have the rag dolls ready or do you want me to smash you flat personally?”
“Rag dolls are fine, dammit.”
“Bad meeting?” Musashi asked.
“That is putting it mildly,” Luke replied. “I really need to beat the crap out of someone or something. Maybe a big blue rag doll would be nice. Do you have any that look like Topa?”
* * *
Suresh turned to Mark now Luke was gone.
“Do not share this with Luke. He will meet the remains of a human crew. Their vessel was damaged and they will have requested refugee status on the planet of Bizzen.”
“What vessel?” Mark asked trying to think of who it might have been, why didn’t he know about it, why were they so far out, and why didn’t Suresh want Luke to know? What did the Topa mean ‘they will have requested refugee status’? Why was the Topa having Luke go? It should be a New Alamo rescue team.
“Why didn’t you tell Luke?” Mark asked.
“It is better that he not know, and do not tell his apprentices,” Suresh said.
“He should hurry then,” Mark said.
“No,” Suresh said. “I cannot explain the details now.”
Mark knew of all the human ships in Conglomerate space, there were only a handful, and New Alamo was the only human colony in all of Conglomerate space. The wormhole New Alamo had escaped through had been rare and only open for a short time. Transition of such a large object had destabilized and collapsed it behind the colony, so Mark knew exactly, and to the person, how few humans were in Conglomerate space. The lives and wellbeing of all people of New Alamo were valuable and precious to Mark. For some to be stranded was unthinkable and disturbing to Mark.
“The name of the vessel is the ‘Shrike’,” Suresh said.
“We don’t have a shipped named ‘Shrike’," Mark said. He knew all the ship names and that was not even close. Was the Topa confused about it being a human crew? “Are you sure it is human?”
“I didn’t say the vessel came from New Alamo,” Suresh said. “It came from the Jupiter Alliance.”
“Oh shit,” Mark said half sitting, half falling, his hands beginning to shake. “Oh, shit. We aren’t alone any longer?”
“That remains to be seen,” Suresh said. “Luke has his mission. You have another. It is time to repay your debts to the Conglomerate and the Topa. The New Alamo Soma will need help.”
“The New Alamo Soma?! Oh, holy freaking shit,” Mark forgot about Suresh completely as what the Topa was telling him began to sink in.
“Oh, holy freaking shit,” Mark said again staring at his desk. Everything was about to change. Everything, and Mark feared the human race might be wiped from the universe if anything went wrong. He looked up at the person who would order it.
The Topa had unleashed the Tal in the past to commit genocide and it wouldn’t be the last time unless the human race was careful. There were things the Conglomerate did not tolerate. Mark knew for a certainty Topa Suresh had given the order to render a race extinct several hundred years ago, and Suresh had led the attack. The kind, benevolent, non-interfering attitude of the Topa didn’t fool Mark. Unless things had changed in the Sol system, humanity was now on the brink of extinction.
CHAPTER SIX
Apprentices
“We have people at the main hatch,” Gray said to Luke through the InnerBuddy. “Should I have them shot or let them in?”
“Don’t tempt me. Let them in. Show them to the guest quarters if we still have them. . . . Do we?”
“Yes,” Nelson said, joining the channel. “We do. Not far from your quarters in fact.”
“Can we put them further away?” Luke asked wondering how long he could avoid them. He did not even have names and they were already here. He had not sat down to check the message from Suresh.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Nelson said with a sigh he managed to convey across the link.
“How many?” Luke asked, a little belatedly.
“Three humans and six personal droids. Two droids for each,” Nelson said. “Everyone is armed and equipped with personal effects.”
“Tell them we are leaving in four hours. Keep them away from me. Maybe, um,” Luke paused. “What would be a traditional meet and greet? For a teacher and his apprentices? Is that a New Alamo thing?”
“To meet them at the airlock and escort them to their rooms,” Nelson said. “Unless you had other students do so. I would check with Jeeves. They will be under your command so that makes them more subordinates rather than apprentices. Yes, it is a New Alamo thing. It is a tradition to take ‘apprentices’ for training in some professions.”
“Too late to meet them at the airlock,” Luke said realizing he would have to face them. If he showed up now they would freak. Besides being inappropriate, Luke had just spent time in the dojo working out his frustrations and was still covered in his own blood. A finger was broken and swollen, and he still could not walk on his knee without limping.
“Then perhaps dinner?” Nelson replied after a quick consult with Jeeves. “We will prepare a formal dinner for today. I have forwarded the dossiers to you.”
Luke nodded. He should have thought of that. Dossiers to find out whom Mark had dumped on him. Probably some wet behind the ears, stupid, untrained recruits who would be all goo-goo eyed about being assigned to the ‘vaunted hero of Naantali’. Mark was a bastard of the first degree. Luke would have to find some way to pay the bastard back.
First the mission though. The physical exhaustion brought about a mental peace and helped him to accept what was occurring. Earlier he would have told Gray to refuse them at the lock.
Luke brought up his messages and found the one from Suresh. His filters discarded messages from other humans. There was nobody on New Alamo he cared to talk with, and Mark’s orders came through a different route.
The Topa mission was brief. It gave three-dimensional grid coordinates on a planet about ten jumps away named Bizzen, in the Chonka system. Distant, it would take a month to get there. There was no name or description for the Soma. The orders said, ‘go there’ and assist the Soma and then gave another set of coordinates in an unpopulated system one jump away. It included no threat level, no authorized expense sheet, no names, nothing. The orders were the most amateur and least detailed mission orders he had ever seen and they didn’t even contain recognition codes or contact numbers. Hopefully the Soma would be expecting him or it would get awkward quick.
“What is this crap?” Luke asked after reading it. “The Topa are a hell of a lot more organized than this, with gigabytes of useless data.”
“I found it strange as well,” Nelson sent.
“It might be a challenge,” Gray answered. “To see what you are made of.”
Luke ran a net search on Soma and came up with nothing relevant.
“Odd,” Luke sent. “No reference to a Soma in relation to the Topa.”
“They do not allow general access to their holy books,” Nelson said. “They keep their mystic secrets and references to themselves.”
“So unlike the Caliphate,” Gray added.
Luke frowned. After forty-five years, he could not escape the past. It seemed to come up more and more.
“Do we have anything on Topa religious terms?” Luke asked. “Anything even remotely similar?”
“Pretty much nothing,” Nelson sent. “Very unusual.”
“Swell,” Luke sent. “Just swell.”
Luke sank down into the healing pool even further. The knee stopped hurting and his finger was numb. Should not be long now.
* * *
“I have prepared your full-dress uniform,” Jeeves said. “You should look your best when meeting your apprentic
es. This should be a formal event and first impressions are lasting impressions.”
Luke scowled at Jeeves, his protocol, and etiquette droid. Mostly Jeeves’s job was to research and understand the myriad of aliens Luke encountered, and then advise Luke on best responses. Jeeves acted as a butler besides a member of the command crew. He was thin and blue and very similar to Nelson. He also acted as the executive officer for Nelson and managed the auxiliary CIC in battle.
Looking at his dress uniform brought back too many memories. There were plenty of medals and awards, including several he did not remember, most likely awarded by the New Alamo council for whatever mission they heard about. It looked impressive, but Luke would rather wear utilities or better yet armor. Black, instead of blue, this uniform had red trim with an enclosed collar in the tradition of the US Marines, it was designed to impress and it did, but Luke never took any pleasure in wearing it. It was near impossible to actually fight in.
“Do I have to wear all those gaudy ribbons and medals? Looks like a freaking salad exploded on my chest.”
“Yes,” was Jeeves’s only response, in a tone of voice Luke wouldn’t argue with. Experience was not always a kind teacher. “Be thankful I’m not making you wear the naval uniform.”
“I am, believe me,” Luke said. The naval dress uniform was all white. Holding a naval rank was a requirement of New Alamo but Luke had always considered himself a Marine, not a naval officer. As a Mercenary Commander, it was his choice.
The two eagles on the shoulder boards showing his rank stared at him. It didn’t look right. It never did. He didn’t feel old or mature enough for the rank. All the full bird colonels he remembered had been crusty old Marines, too old for rejuvenation treatment.
“What about just the New Alamo medals? Do I have to wear the United States medals?”
“Yes,” Jeeves said. “New Alamo uniform dress code section twelve dot five, states all medals from all branches and services, including foreign military forces, be worn for formal occasions. Would you prefer to wear dress whites Commander?”
“No,” Luke said trying not to growl at the droid and failing. Jeeves just ignored him.
“I didn’t think so,” Jeeves said. “Now you may stop your complaining and finish getting dressed. I have my job and you have yours. Don’t argue with the expert unless you have a good reason, and you do not.”
There was no arguing with Jeeves though as Luke put it on. It looked good. If the students were not already googly-eyed, they would be after looking at the rack of medals. It was obscene in Luke’s eyes, pretentious and gaudy. It served no purpose other than to show off and impress others. Luke didn’t like that. Too many people refused to let others forget their past accomplishments and those people were not the type to add to those accomplishments.
He glanced at the dossiers again, displayed on one of his walls. Mark had sent him three officers. They were all combat veterans and had been members of the New Alamo Defense Force for decades. Luke was impressed. Mark had not sent him a group of wet behind the ear recruits, but Luke couldn’t remember having met any of them. What was Mark up to?
Amanda Cussack was a skilled programmer, a pilot and a ship’s officer who had ranked highly in all her classes. In the NADF, she held the rank of O4, Lieutenant Commander. Shorter than normal with short red hair, blue eyes and numerous commendations she appeared hardcore and dedicated. She had left her father back in the Sol system and had no other relatives. She had no other jobs listed besides NADF duties. Luke knew the type. She appeared to be married to military service and had served for over fifty years, which was a long time to be a Lieutenant Commander. Luke figured she was at the apex of her career, unable to advance because there were no openings but unwilling to retire and seek a job elsewhere. Luke could understand Mark’s desire to assign her to his ship. It would be something very different for her, broaden her horizons and experience. It is what he would have done if he still played officer games. She should be in line for her own ship if New Alamo could afford one for her.
Jeremy Blake was also high skilled and capable according to his dossier. Of Asian descent, despite the name, he kept his head shaved and he also held the rank of Lieutenant Commander in the NADF. He had several combat decorations, and had served with another mercenary commander named Bruce Simmons. Luke did not know Bruce well, but Bruce had been an original mercenary like Luke. While Bruce did not hold a favored status with the Topa, he seemed quite good and there were comments from Bruce praising Jeremy in his service record. He was not quite at a dead-end in his career as Amanda was since he had served with Bruce, but he was not far from it. He was another officer who should have his own ship. Luke wondered why he was not still with Bruce. He would have to find out why, but anything negative might not be in his dossier. Luke paused, staring at the picture, why hadn’t Mark made him a mercenary Captain and sent him on his way.
The last was Brita Summers. She was sophisticated and beautiful. She was tall and muscular, she could almost look Luke in the eyes and had a no-nonsense kind of stare. Her hair was short, a requirement for helmets and her eyes had a hard, cut you with a knife kind of look. She held the rank of Captain in the NADF and she held the rank of Major in the New Alamo Special Operations Command. NASOC. She excelled in everything she did and had numerous combat decorations. Looking at her scores, Luke was impressed. She was another officer in a dead-end position, unable to be promoted, but too valuable to let go or shuffle off to some dead-end position. Luke didn’t envy Mark’s need to keep his officers busy and engaged.
“What are our thoughts Nelson?” Luke asked.
“Admiral Harrison wants to get them off the colony and out into the Conglomerate,” Nelson said. “Sending them with you gets them good experience and it will allow him to promote and train others who will need to replace these three.”
“Gray?” Luke asked.
“What squidbert said,” Gray answered. “Maybe let him promote some aspiring young officers.”
“Why not give them ships and send them on their way?” Luke asked, staring at Jeremy’s dossier.
“New Alamo doesn’t have many ships and most people dislike being alone,” Nelson said. “Unlike yourself, of course.”
“The population of New Alamo isn’t growing very fast, but it is growing,” Gray said. “The Admiral has to do something, a future to work for or they will stagnate and that could lead to dissatisfaction and a civil war. Younger adults have little chance for advancement with all the old farts refusing to retire or die off.”
“Huh,” Luke said. “One to ten years? I have to keep them around for a whole year? No loop holes?”
“None,” Jeeves said. “I checked.”
“Mark’s a bastard,” Luke said staring at Amanda’s dossier.
“No,” Jeeves said. “I believe his parents were killed back on Earth.”
Luke glared at Jeeves who was looking over Luke’s uniform.
“He must not like them if he sent them to me,” Luke said.
“Very likely,” Jeeves replied, adjusting some of the buttons on Luke’s uniform.
The youngest of the apprentices was Jeremy at age forty-nine. Brita was the oldest at seventy-four. Brita had fought against the Caliphate, she had been a Lance Corporal in the NADF Special Operations. Luke himself held the rank of Colonel in the NADF Marines but at the time had not been accepted into Special Operations. Every human of New Alamo was expected to be a member of the NADF and undergo combat training. Being the only humans in Conglomerate space there were no exceptions. Any pacifists had fled to the Jupiter Alliance a long time ago.
Luke said. “These aren’t wet behind the ears rookies. Why are they being assigned as apprentices? Only a moron would send them to me.”
“Because you are awesome,” Gray said. “Most military organizations do it. Assign a rising star to one of the best hoping to make them better. Round out the officer’s education even more.”
“You don’t think there is more to it?”
Luke asked, skeptical.
“Of course there is,” Nelson replied. “Prime Minister Harrison is a politician. He manipulates people and events. However, keep in mind you spend more time away from New Alamo than any other human and have done so since you arrived. Your knowledge is priceless. Even after forty years the Topa still favor you.”
“Still trying to figure that out,” Luke said with a sigh. No use putting it off any longer. Perhaps being assigned to Luke was a punishment? It made the most sense. Poor bastards.
“They might have some serious character flaws,” Gray said. “And they are being dumped on you to get rid of them because nobody else will take them.”
“Thanks,” Luke said. “That makes me feel so much better.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dinner
The Leonis Ultio was a battle cruiser on the larger end of the Conglomerate classification charts for battle cruisers. Which meant it was big, not massive by any standards, but certainly not small. It was five hundred meters long, with a curved, axe like hammerhead front and a thick, stocky body. More than twice the length of a twentieth century aircraft carrier it still wasn’t the most awe-inspiring ship in Conglomerate space but it was the heavily armed. There were two landing bays in the center, one on either side, shielded by the curved hammerheads. The landing bays housed the thirty-six drone fighters along with a complement of grav tanks and infantry assault transports. The Leonis Ultio was armored and bristled with weapons, sensor arrays, and defensive weapons clusters. Two over powered plasma lances poked out the front and could only fire in a forward arc but few ships could withstand the devastation they inflicted.
The battle cruiser held a reinforced battalion of warbots and enough assault shuttles to land them. Luke had seen nothing like it in the Sol system. In the Conglomerate, it was rare to see battle cruisers owned and controlled by the non-Conglomerate forces, but it wasn’t unheard of for empires that had their own military forces.
The Return: The Conglomerate Trilogy (Volume 1) Page 6
