We Are The Wolf: Wolfpack Book 1

by Toby Neighbors

  The briefing theater was exactly that, a theater with twelve reclining seats, a small podium, and a large video display. Whenever they were given an assignment, Dean would have the responsibility of outlining their mission, objectives, and individual assignments in the theater.

  "You can also watch movies," Wilson said. "The Valkyrie has a substantial video library. We also get sporting events when we're in broadcast range."

  "Sounds fun," Dean said.

  "It can be," she said, and he thought he detected a flirtatious note in her voice.

  "I'll show you the access corridors. They can be a bit tricky until you get the hang of them."

  She took Dean to what looked like a much shorter, narrower hallway. It was perfectly round and once they stepped in, Dean's stomach felt as though it was floating upward.

  "The ship mimics gravity," Wilson explained. "We're making progress with artificial gravity but there's still a lot of work to be done before it’s ready for practical applications. Fascinating research though, if you're into that sort of thing."

  Dean smiled. Reading science blogs had been his oldest brother's domain. Dean could understand the science, but it wasn't of interest to him. Certainly not fascinating, he thought, but he was grateful that it was to someone.

  "As we go down the corridor we'll eventually enter zero G at the center. It's fun."

  Dean nodded again, feeling a little uneasy. Walking through the hallway that connected the double helix arms of the ship felt more like walking up a very steep hill, only the climb got easier with each step. And then they were floating.

  "There isn't a lot of traffic through the connecting branches," Wilson said. "Sometimes I like to come here and just float."

  She actually winked at him when she said it, and Dean felt his face flush. Luckily she didn't seem to notice and propelled herself down the long hallway, regaining her feet easily. Dean followed her example but wasn't nearly as graceful. The second half of the corridor felt like Dean was walking down hill, and he felt the sluggish sensation that accompanied the return of gravity as they passed into the primary arm of the ship.

  "The operators occupy that end of the corridor," Wilson explained. "Ship officers, and subsequently the officers’ mess, are this way."

  Dean was taken on a quick tour of the small, but well-appointed officers’ mess, rec area, and operations room. There was a large table in the center of the operations room where the vice admiral could outline mission objectives and any issues regarding the ship to the other officers. Dean noticed that the Recon Commander had a seat at the table. Each officer's title was sewn into the leather head rest of the large, comfortable-looking chairs.

  "And finally, the bridge," Wilson explained, stepping up to a door that swooshed open in front of her.

  The bridge was the command center of the ship, and reminded Dean of a computer lab. There were various stations around the room, and each one had at least one video screen, and some as many as three. In the center of the room was a slightly raised platform with two bench-type seats. Large video screens filled the walls and Dean could see that some were technical displays showing sections of the ship's different systems, such as life support and propulsion. Others showed video feeds from cameras on the ship. Some were cameras mounted on the hull, others showed various sections inside the ship. Dean noticed the tall man standing on the platform in the center of the room watching as supplies were unloaded from the transport Dean had arrived on and neatly stored away.

  "Captain Ortega," Wilson said. "This is Lieutenant Blaze."

  "Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. I trust you will see to it that your platoon has everything in order in section B."

  “Yes, sir," Dean said.

  "Excellent. Your wrist link should update automatically to ship time. If you have any questions about technical issues on board Valkyrie, Lieutenant Wilson will answer them. We still have a few days of work resupplying, but we'll be underway as quickly as possible. Vice Admiral Linda Hamilton is looking forward to meeting you this evening over dinner. 1900 hours in the Ward Room."

  "Yes, sir," Dean responded.

  He turned and followed Lieutenant Wilson back out of the bridge. The short woman moved quickly through the corridor and back to another of the connecting hallways that led back to the secondary arm of the ship. From what Dean could tell, the corridor his troops would be stationed on was only secondary because the ship's control room was on the other arm. Perhaps there was more to the designation, but it didn't really matter to Dean. He knew where things were and he had time to settle in before his troops arrived.

  "If you check your tablet you should have the loading schedule. I think your equipment will be arriving tomorrow," Wilson said. "Your troops arrive the day after that."

  "Thank you," Dean said. "I'll make sure I get our equipment logged and stowed away."

  "See you around, Lieutenant," Wilson said, the flirtatious tone back in her voice.

  Dean watched her go down the hallway. She was a pleasant person, but she made him feel a bit uncomfortable. He made his way back to his berth, where his wrist link automatically unlocked the door for him. His personal belongings were packed in his large, green pack, and had been delivered to his room for him. His usual utility fatigues had been replaced with the simple, black jumpsuits worn by EsDef personnel. Four sets were already hanging in his tiny, locker-sized closet.

  He pulled out the few other pairs of clothes he owned, stowing them away in a chest that fit neatly in the bottom of his closet. He had nothing of value outside of his EsDef-issued tablet and wrist link. The tablet automatically charged when he laid it on the small receptacle and transferred control of the device to the much larger wall display. He could swipe the touch sensitive wall, which looked just like any other wall when it wasn't glowing with the EsDef logo from his tablet.

  Dean checked his messages, then noticed a new icon that said Valkyrie. He tapped the icon and several subfolders appears. One was staff, another was the shipboard handbook. Each system on board the ship had a folder, such as navigation. When Dean tapped the subfolder the screen transformed into a plot of the space around Earth. There were over a dozen ships, and even more space stations, all neatly labeled. Dean hit the back arrow and tapped on the subfolder listed as supplies. Another group of subfolders appeared. Dean touched the one labeled Recon and found that the only gear designated was ammunition. There was enough to start a small war already logged into the ship's inventory.

  Dean made a mental note to search through the storage rooms designated for his platoon and make sure everything was neatly arranged. That had been the primary reason for coming aboard early. He didn't want someone else handling the gear that his troops would depend on.

  A few swipes took him back to the main subfolders and Dean found the resupply schedule. The Recon armor was due to arrive at 0900 hours Zulu. It was currently 1623 which gave Dean less than three hours until his dinner with the other officers. He felt a little nervous about that meeting. He hadn't liked the way Captain Ortega had treated him like the new kid at school, but he understood it in a way. He was new to the ship and Captain Ortega was in charge of it. Or, at least he oversaw the day-to-day operations on board. Vice Admiral Hamilton was the commanding officer on board.

  Dean went back to the staff icon and opened the folder. Four new folders appeared: Naval Officers, Naval Maintenance, EsDef Operators, and Force Recon. Dean tapped the Naval Officers icon and read through the names of the men and women who were in charge of the ship. Each system in the ship had an officer of at least lieutenant rank or higher. Captain Ortega was the Executive Officer and Vice Admiral Hamilton was listed at Commander. Dean tapped the VA's name and a short service record appeared, along with a picture. The Vice Admiral was a stern-faced woman with short, silver hair. She had deep lines around her eyes and mouth. It was not the face Dean had expected. She looked more like a school teacher that a star ship commander.

  He backed out of the app and checked his messages. They w
ere all administrative, since no friends or family even had his EsDef email account to send him anything. The only thing left to do was go to work, and try to ignore the sense of isolation he was already starting to feel. He left his berth and went to the Recon storage rooms. Some were empty, but others had an assortment of gear, mostly ammunition for the variety of weapons carried by a Recon platoon. Dean spent two hours double checking the ship's inventory. It was busy work, and completely boring, but there was nothing else for him to do.

  Chapter 32

  Eventually he returned to his berth, showered quickly, and then made his way through the ship to the officers’ mess. In the OTA the mess was just a plain cafeteria. In Coronado and Bayview, the officers’ mess was a little more like a restaurant, with smaller tables and meal options. Dean had expected the food on the Valkyrie to be much the same as it had been on the space base where he began his training. Instead, he found an elegant-looking dining room complete with a long table covered in a white table cloth. There were dishes, not trays, pitchers of the fruit punch, as well as wine glasses with three fingers of a dark red wine.

  The light was turned down in the room, and classical music played softly in the background. Dean immediately felt out of place. His black EsDef fatigues felt too thin, almost like he was wearing pajamas, and the room was filled with people he didn't know.

  "Lieutenant Blaze," said Captain Ortega. "Right on time. Excellent. Let me introduce you to our commanding officer."

  "Thank you," Dean said, feeling a little better seeing someone he recognized, even if the captain wasn't actually a friend.

  Dean was led to the head of the table where Vice Admiral Hamilton was talking to another woman that, surprisingly enough, Dean did recognize. Captain Esmeralda Dante looked stunning in the black regulation fatigues. Dean felt a lump form in his throat, and his mouth was suddenly very dry. He wasn't sure if he would be able to speak.

  "Commander," Captain Ortega said, "this is our new Recon platoon leader, Lieutenant Dean Blaze."

  "Good to have you aboard, Lieutenant," VA Hamilton said. "We have several new officers aboard and I'm looking forward to getting to know you all."

  The Vice Admiral resumed her conversation with Captain Dante, turning her back on Dean who felt suddenly embarrassed. He turned to find Captain Ortega, but the executive officer was already across the room. Dean felt more out of his element at every turn. The senior officers at Coronado and Bayview had treated him with respect and a friendly attitude, but on board the Valkyrie he felt like an outsider.

  There were no names stitched into the seats around the dining table. There were, however, name cards at each place setting. Dean determined to endure the meal, keep his mouth shut, and get back to his own section of the ship as quickly as possible. It would have been nice to talk to Captain Dante, but Dean could tell she was too busy. No one in their right mind would leave a conversation with a vice admiral to talk to him, a lowly junior lieutenant. Dean knew the only reason he had been invited to the dinner was because he led the Force Recon platoon. He had no value when it came to the function of the star ship. He was little more than a passenger, and while that didn't make him feel very confident in his new duty, he felt certain that he could keep to himself and stay out of the way of VA Hamilton.

  Dean found his spot at the table and soon everyone was seated. The ship's steward served the officers a meal of real pasta, with actual cream sauce, fresh baked bread, charred vegetables, and traditional French parfaits for desert. It was an elegant meal, and the conversation ranged from Earth politics to advances in space technology. Dean noticed that Lieutenant Wilson was absent from the dinner. He guessed there were other officers manning the bridge of the ship. The entire affair seemed to be more like a queen holding court than a genuine meeting of fellow officers.

  As soon as the meal was finished, and the group began to mingle, Dean headed for the door. He had done his duty and was anxious to get back to his section of the ship. It might be lonely, but at least he wouldn't feel out of place.

  "Dean," Captain Dante said before he could escape. "I hope you don't mind me calling you Dean."

  "Not at all," he replied, turning to see the Spanish captain.

  She was just as beautiful in uniform as she had been on the beach in San Diego, although Dean tried not to be too obvious as he looked at the senior officer. She may have been in another branch of service, but it was protocol to show the proper respect to officers of rank throughout EsDef.

  "I haven't seen you in quite some time," she said, her Spanish accent just enough for Dean to hear, filling his mind with questions about the exotic officer.

  "Not since the beach in San Diego," Dean said.

  "You turned in early that night," she replied.

  "Actually I was meeting someone. I hope I didn't offend you sneaking off the way I did."

  "No, of course not. I would expect nothing less from a Recon officer."

  "Well, I'm glad to see a friendly face on board."

  "As am I. Coming back to duty off world was a difficult decision for me, but I did not enjoy training. This is where I belong, but being on a new ship is always stressful."

  "What will you be doing exactly?" Dean asked. "If I can ask?"

  "Of course you can. I fly ships, from small repair drones to supply transports. I even fly troop carriers, which is what I was doing in Coronado - training operators to remotely control pilotless troop transports. I'll be your air support coordinator if you see action on this tour."

  "Well, it's good to know that I'll have someone I can trust on the other end of my comms channel."

  "Captain Dante," said a painfully thin man who was prematurely balding and had a wispy mustache that drooped over his upper lip. "It's an honor to have you on board. I'm Major Eugene White, the O and A supervisor for this ship. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

  "Yes, it is good to meet you, Major White."

  "We have so much to talk about," the major went on. "Perhaps we should find a place more suited to conversation. You'll have to excuse us, Lieutenant."

  "Of course, sir," Dean said.

  The look in the major's eyes told Dean everything he needed to know about the man. Not every officer in the service saw eye to eye, and Dean could see a mixture of fear and arrogance in Major White's snobbish glance. Captain Dante seemed frustrated, but she couldn't refuse a superior and so she gave Dean a glance that said she was sorry. He understood, and while he would have enjoyed spending more time with Captain Dante, he knew it was time for him to get back to his own quarters as well.

  He watched them leave the Ward room, giving them plenty of time before following, so that it wouldn't seem like he was trying to tag along. Dean was determined not to make enemies. Getting on the major's bad side would be all too easy, as would smashing his pointed nose in. That kind of infraction could get him court-martialed, and Dean made a decision to have as little to do with Major White as possible.

  It was a painful discovery to realize that in EsDef, just like all walks of life, Dean would have to navigate the tricky waters of internal politics. It seemed that Force Recon was the step child of the service. Almost all facets of the warrior class had been eradicated from EsDef, only the Recon Division remained, and it seemed they were not all that welcome in the new military. He would have to be careful, make friends when he could, and keep his head down. No one said being an officer in the Extra Solar Defense Force would be easy, but he didn't realize it would be more dangerous than combat on a colony world.

  Chapter 33

  Over the next two days Dean fell into an easy routine. He rose at 0500 Zulu time and spent an hour and a half in the gym. Using the advanced weight machines was addictive to Dean. He loved the way he could feel his body responding to the training. After morning chow he spent his days receiving supplies for the Recon troops, everything from their battle armor to off world rations and gear that might be needed on any number of colony worlds.

  On the third day his platoo
n began to arrive. Dean gave them the tour of B section where his troops were expected to stay. If they meandered into the maintenance section D that was on the same arm of the ship as B, it was permissible. On the other hand, enlisted men roaming the primary arm of the ship might cause trouble, so Dean strongly discouraged it.

  Just like Dean, his platoon came up in small groups on supply carriers. Dean got everyone settled in their assigned berths and then called a platoon meeting in the briefing theater. The seats in the back row were larger than those in the front to accommodate the muscular frames of the HA specialists. Once everyone was settled Dean moved to the front of the room and turned on a video the VA had prepared for the platoon.

  "Welcome aboard the EsDef Valkyrie, I am Vice Admiral Hamilton, commander of this vessel and your ranking officer for this tour."

  It was a strange beginning to Dean's way of thinking. It was common knowledge that vice admirals commanded starships, and for the VA to announce her rank, position, and seniority seemed a bit like overkill to Dean.

  "It is a point of great pride that this ship excels in every way, and I expect my Recon platoon to represent the Valkyrie at all times. Whether you are on a colony world or on board with the rest of us, I ask that you follow these guidelines. First, there should be absolutely no fraternizing with the officers of the Valkyrie. I know that long tours off world can be difficult, but please keep in mind that we are all here to do a job. The officers on this vessel have responsibilities that affect the lives of every soul on board. Please honor their rank, and the incredibly difficult work they are dedicated to."

  Once more Dean felt a sense of frustration at the way VA Hamilton was talking down to his platoon. The commander spoke as though he and his troops were too slow witted to understand the complexity of the jobs her staff performed on board the ship. He agreed with the request, shipboard liaisons were not ideal under any conditions, but also understood that relationships across divisions were a healthy way to deal with the isolation and stress of being cooped up in a small space for long periods of time.