by Ryan Krauter
"Dammit," Loren said as Web arrived. "I thought I had you transferred to mine-clearing duty in Priman space." Web put on a hurt face, and Loren looked at Merritt conspiratorially. "Did I say that out loud?" he asked. Merritt laughed as the three exchanged handshakes and good-natured ribbing. Friendships aside, they'd fought together and saved each other's lives numerous times, and had earned the right to make a few off-colored jokes about their parentage and bathroom habits along the way.
"Cataloging Web's disgusting habits again?" asked Captain Elco as he entered the hangar carrying a small case. The three tried their best to come to attention and look respectable, but Elco just waved them off. "Are you going alphabetically or by degree of offense?" he continued, at which point Loren had to give in and laugh with Elco and the rest.
"I hate to break up the festivities," Elco said, "but we have an arrival slot from Traffic Control, so we'll have to shove off." He turned to Merritt and Web, then nodded at each. "Gentlemen, see you late tonight." With that, he continued across the hangar floors, which were once again clean and gleaming after the ship's yard time, and up the short rear ramp into the transport.
"Well, I guess that means I sort of have to go, too," added Loren, and gave Merritt a quick fist to the shoulder as he followed the captain.
Web and Merritt watched them go. Finally, Web looked at Merritt and raised his eyebrow. "I suppose I need to go as well?" Web asked with a grin. Merritt just chuckled and headed off to Flight Control to watch their departure.
Web jogged up the ramp, slapping the pad that raised and sealed it behind him. He made his way to the cockpit after getting a thumbs-up from the captain and XO to indicate their readiness. Actually, the gesture Loren gave him was not exactly a thumbs-up, but among fighter pilots the meaning was the same.
Helmet on, Web had the co-pilot read the checklist, lighting up the drives and hovering over to the launch spot. In position, checklists complete, he nudged the transport over the marked area which indicated Avenger's launch control computers would take over. He tapped a few buttons on the autopilot panel and saw the lights go from green to amber, signaling Avenger had control. This was the part that always gave pilots the sweats; the computer was in control of the vessel now. It was understandable, considering how tight a fit the clearances were between the blast door frame and the transport, but fighter pilots were a Type A lot and would never admit to being comfortable turning the flying over to anyone or anything other than themselves.
Web suppressed a grimace as he watched the throttles advance on their own and the flight stick wiggle a bit, then the transport was catapulted out of the hangar bay and began the turn to their assigned departure corridor away from the ship. A second later, the autopilot lights turned green and Web gratefully took over the controls.
"We're safe now; I'm back in control," he reassured Loren and the captain over the intercom.
"Gods be praised," Loren said out of habit. It was good to be flying again, even if he wasn't the one in the pointy end.
Their arrival in the military base on the outskirts of Lemuria's capital city of Tirnan was uneventful. The base itself was fairly substantial, but the problem was there were only a handful on the entire planet; not nearly enough to mount a serious defense. Like the Confederation and most large empires in the galaxy, internal conflict was almost nonexistent, and outright invasions from hostile parties were a rarity. The only reason Confed and the Talarans had kept such a large standing military was their standoff with the Enkarran Empire, a worry that the Lemurians didn't have to deal with being so far away from the Enkarrans. Sandwiched between the Talaran Collection and Confederation of Systems, it was an ideal place to be if one chose to go it alone.
Right now, Loren realized, it was going to cost these people. There was just no way they could defend themselves against the Primans, and he wondered why Avenger had really been sent here in the first place. If the Primans came in force, Lemuria would fall, and Avenger with her three-ship task force wouldn't be anything more than a speed bump in the great highway of Priman conquest.
"And this is the senior military commander of our surface forces," the government official carried on as he indicated a burly man with a chest full of buttons, ribbons, and colored gemstones, "General Arcas Horle."
The General nodded professionally at Loren and Captain Elco, then indicated the officer standing next to him. "This is my second in command, Captain Renner."
The captain saluted and Loren returned the gesture. This was probably the person he'd be dealing with for the next few days.
"I hate to rush things," began the official, "but the Governor is expecting the press conference to start in half an hour." He indicated Elco. "Captain, this is mostly a photo op, so there's no real business to conduct today. The suggestion was made for your XO to stay here and have a tour of the base. You two can depart from here later and tomorrow is when you'll be able to spend some time with the Governor and conduct some business."
Elco looked at Loren, who just shrugged. Avenger's captain allowed himself to be led off, at which point Captain Renner looked at Loren with a curious expression. "Looks like we finally have some time to chat about what's really on all of our minds, Commander."
Loren had to hand it to the Drisk captain; he was as straight-to-the-point as he would have expected of a Drisk. In spite of himself, he smiled. The man reminded him in some ways of his old friend Delgin Marks, the former XO of Avenger whose place he'd taken after he'd perished in the opening days of the war.
"You don't have a target range around here, do you?" Loren asked. "Nothing clears the air like shooting holes in things."
"Clearly you are a wise and learned man," Renner replied with a smile of his own. "I see you're carrying your SSK. Have you had to use it much?"
"It's saved by butt more than once." Loren drew the weapon, checked to make sure it was powered down, and handed it to Renner. The other officer double-checked it was safe, then ejected the magazine to inspect the armor piercing rounds.
"Looks like it's well maintained," he observed with approval.
"Some of the best weapons I've ever fired were Drisk designs," Loren said. "Treat the weapon right, and it will return the favor."
Loren and Captain Renner spent a few minutes discussing the shooting house. It was similar in design to those used all over the galaxy. The facility was out in the open; a maze of rooms and hallways built of reinforced walls. Armor piercing rounds were prohibited; laser blasts only. Renner selected his own favorite training scenario: unknown number of hostages in the building, being held by a Priman opposing force of unknown number. Renner explained that the simulator would randomly select between six and sixteen Primans to be active in the building. They were semi-intelligent bots, humanoid torsos on antigrav plates that allowed them to roam the entire building. Loren and Renner- the man didn't appear to use a first name- wore vests and caps that would register targeting laser hits on them as fired by the bots.
"At least we get to use combat loads and not some sad training lasers," Loren commented as they stood at the doorway, datalinked shooting glasses in place. The glasses served to show their positions on the top-down map overlay available if Loren looked up and to the right on the glasses. It could also show the projected impact point similar to old-school red-dot laser designators, but with the advantage that the only place it was displayed was on the glasses. Loren enjoyed shooting much more when the technology was at a minimum; he used the map, but nothing else.
"I suppose it's hard to get permission to go shooting a lot of live rounds aboard ship," Renner replied.
"Only on special occasions," Loren admitted. "Every once in a while I can talk the range officer into letting me have some fun, but they're supposed to keep full-power exercises few and far between. What fun is that, right?"
"Agreed." Renner looked at Loren. "Ready?"
"Let's kill some Primans." Loren raised his weapon in a two handed grip, right arm bent in a V shape. His left arm was bent as
well, elbow lifted a little higher with his fingers on the outside of the right ones where they gripped the weapon. Pushing slightly with the right hand, gently pulling with the left, it put the weapon in tension and made for a stable grip.
There were a dozen or more widely practiced close quarters techniques that were taught as methods to clear buildings. Not having the time to review and memorize each other's procedures, they'd adopted simple and time-tested cues for their exercise.
Renner pushed open the swinging door and they burst in, Renner clearing the left and Loren clearing the right. Loren swung his weapon to the far corner on his right, the most distant corner in his field of fire. From there, he quickly tracked his weapon back to the center of the room. Renner was doing the same, and their fields of fire overlapped as they determined the room to be safe. They both whispered 'clear', then made their way to the next doorway. This time Loren took the lead, concentrating on the door and listening for any sounds behind it. Without a third man to cover their backs, they could only press forward and use the element of surprise, so he threw open the door and entered.
This time there were two targets- Tangoes- waiting for them. Both were hidden in the hard corners, and Loren and Renner double-tapped each as they entered the room and identified the shooters. After a brief pause, Loren put one more in the head of his target bot as it sank to the floor.
"Vicious," Renner said with a smile, then stacked up on the next door. Loren readied himself and tapped Renner on the shoulder, the universal signal for 'go', and followed him in.
The bots had arranged a surprise. There were three of them on the far end of a large ransacked office room, behind a conference table surrounded by chairs. Overturned chairs, tables, and workstations littered the space. A 'hostage', another target bot wearing business attire, sat in a chair at the conference table, one of the hostiles behind him. That bot had an automatic rifle and opened fire on the pair as they entered. Loren had to drop to the the floor as a stream of red laser bolts flashed through the space he'd been occupying a split second before. Renner had enough time to put three rounds into one of the bots before he was forced to dive for cover.
Rolling and shuffling until he was behind an overturned chair, Loren peeked out for a half second and realized his views of the shooters were blocked. Taking that as an advantage, he rolled again and ended up in a crouch, looking for a sign. He found it as he saw fleeting glances of the torso of one of the bots as it floated about, trying to get a bead on Renner, who was laying down suppressing fire over the top of the armoire he had ducked behind. Loren had his SSK up and trained on the gap between the tables and chairs, and when the time was right he triggered off five shots as fast as he could into the bot as it floated by. There was a time for clockwork precision and there was a time for messy overkill; this occasion fell into the 'overkill' category. He fired a handful more blasts to keep the last bot from moving to get a shot on him, but was forced to once again dive to new cover as the automatic rifle started raining bolts down on his position. Suddenly, there was a stoppage of fire and Loren heard the distinctive click/whine of a power cell being discarded. He jumped up, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Renner had done the same, and darted to the side, looking for a shot. He and Renner opened up at the same time, catching the bot with a half dozen combined torso hits.
The bot settled to the floor, chest armor sizzling from the impacts of the SSKs. They quickly checked the 'hostage', then stacked up against the back wall. Now they were faced with a decision; there were two doors side by side.
"How lucky are we feeling?" Loren asked as he tapped the switch that released the power cell on his weapon. The cylindrical part just forward of the trigger guard clicked and slid forward, ejecting the small power cell that was contained inside. By the time it fell to the floor, Loren had already replaced it with a new one and was pulling the cover back into position.
"We could breach these rooms," Renner began, "or maybe see if they'll come to us."
"Ooh, ambush; I like it," Loren said thoughtfully. "Let's clear these rooms first and if we don’t finish them off we can set up an ambush."
The next room was empty and they quickly returned to the conference room. Breaching through the second door they were rewarded with four bots; two on patrol and one each in the corners. Loren double tapped the one in his corner and swung the muzzle around just in time to shoot the roaming bot in his sector as Renner did the same. There were no more doors.
"What," Loren asked quietly, "that's it?"
"We should be so lucky," Renner replied. "Since the exercise hasn't ended, it means we'll have to escort the hostage outside."
"Drisk are such masochists," Loren said with a grin.
"It's what makes us such fun at parties," Renner replied.
"Alright then," Loren said as he grabbed the shoulder of the floating hostage bot and placed it between himself and Renner. "Let's get out of here. I'm getting thirsty and need a big mug of some of your local brew; Devil Spit, I believe it's called."
Renner's head snapped to Loren's direction as he eyed him in a new light. "Excellent choice," he said approvingly.
"Drisk friend of mine showed me the light," Loren said with a mischievous grin.
"Ready." Renner waited for Loren to nod, and then they moved out. Their progress was quick, with Renner in the lead catching and shooting two bots as they quick-walked down the narrow hallways. When they got to the last room, they switched positions as Renner was running low on his energy cells from being up front.
Loren waited for Renner to tap him on the shoulder, then ducked into the last room and swept it quickly, spotting one last bot hiding in the corner. He gave it his usual treatment of a double-tap to center mass with a head shot on the way down, then opened the door that exited the shoot-house. Renner was right there with him, hostage bot sandwiched between the both of them.
A red light flashed and a claxon blared twice to let them know the exercise was over. The hostage bot spun in place and floated off to a small hatch that had opened in the wall. Loren and Renner both checked their sidearms and put them back in their holsters, then peeled off their web gear, sensors, and padding.
"I'm ready for that beer now," Renner announced.
Twenty minutes later they were seated at the far end of a local bar just off the military base. It was midday and the place was mostly empty, so they'd ordered their drinks and lunch and were sitting peacefully.
"That was some pretty impressive shooting in there," Renner began. "Were you a grunt or something before you went to a command position?"
Loren chuckled. "Thanks; you weren't exactly shooting yourself in the foot back there, either. Actually, I was a pilot. CAG of Avenger's air wing, then found myself being told I'd make a great XO by the captain."
"Where did your current XO disappear to?" Renner asked. It was somewhat rare for officers to advance too many grades on one ship; usually they headed to wherever there were open positions.
"That was my Drisk friend I was telling you about," Loren replied as he raised his mug in salute. "Delgin Marks. He was killed on the first day of the war, by an Enkarran torpedo of all things. Now we're buddies with them."
Renner raised his mug as well and they clinked glasses, then drank a sip in silence. "I don't suppose you've seen the ship that did it since you and the Enkarrans entered into that treaty?"
"Better than that," Loren replied deadpan. "That captain was on my ship a while back. Actually saved our hides in a fight." He sighed as his mind wandered back to that day and the swirl of emotions he'd experienced. Anger, that the Enkarran captain had been on his ship. Acceptance, that being upset about it forever wouldn't help him win the war. Finally, a sort of understanding. The Enkarran hadn't been malicious or evil; he'd been following his orders, just as Loren would have. It didn't make it any easier that his friend was gone, but Loren tried to see all the sides of the story, as when he wondered what the Enkarran- Captain Josias Krent- was trying to cope with, his anger u
sually dissipated. Besides, the Enkarrans had lost their entire home; the Primans had claimed the whole of the Empire as their own, and to this day were continuing to displace Enkarrans by the millions as they sent them away from their homes and off into space to search for a new place to live. At least Loren could return home when this was all over. Provided the Confederation won.
"Awkward," was the only thing Renner could reply with, and Loren barked out a quick laugh.
"That it is," he admitted, "but we carry on, I guess." Shifting in his seat, Loren looked at Renner seriously before continuing. "Actually, I guess that's why I'm here. You know how the game is played; our bosses go have photo ops and tell the press how much they like each other while we get the real work done." He set his mug down after another generous pull.
"So," he asked, "with the Primans on the way, is there anything we can do for each other?"
Renner's smile faded, replaced by what Loren would only describe as weariness. After taking a minute to apparently collect his thoughts, he turned to Loren and leaned in closer.
"You know the official position of Lemuria is that we are not concerned about being invaded," he began. "There have been a number of nonaligned worlds that have been bypassed by the Primans as they've advanced through this part of space, and our government currently sees no reason why that would change."
"Even with what happened to Carline a few days ago?" Loren urged. "We got word just before we left Avenger for the surface that there'd been another system captured as well. Some of the ship emissions signatures match in both forces, so we're assuming that it's some sort of roving cleanup crew that they're sending out to call on systems they want to secure."
Renner only nodded. "We've seen those reports, too. Loren, you can see by now that while we have some means to defend ourselves, that won't get us anywhere now. Back before the Primans came, solid alliances, some good exports to sell, open trade and a reasonable military presence were enough to ensure sovereignty for any system who chose to go their own path. Pirates and petty criminals were the worst we had to worry about. But the Primans are too much for us. Hell, they're too much for you and the Talarans, not to put things too bluntly. The only way we can hope to be left alone is if we keep our heads down and don't get involved. I wish I could say I believed that would be enough, but I don't. However, there's not much else we can do. You're not offering to send in a fleet, are you?"
