Resolve of Steel (Halloran's War Book 2)

by J. R. Geoghan

  Gail Carruthers sat at the “foot” of the triangle, chattering quietly with the other non-US human officer aboard, Lieutenant Travers. No last name. Halloran frowned at the oddness of the lack of last names for humans in this time. Or was it the lack of first names?

  On the opposite side of Travers, Petty Officer Trigg Wyatt sat listening intently to the exchange between the Lieutenants. Halloran had asked for him despite his rank, acknowledging that Wyatt’s engineering brilliance was sorely-needed right now.

  On his left, Pyotr Antonov sat quietly, talking to no one. Halloran watched him out of the corner of his eye, thinking for a moment about the sturdy Russian Captain. The man had had the misfortune of choosing the last cruise of Halloran’s old ship, the USS Bonhomme Richard, as the one he’d join as a passenger. True, the Bonny Rich had been the Navy’s newest and most powerful ballistic missile submarine to date—back in 2029—but now it had been reduced to a rusting hulk in what remained of the Egyptian desert back on Earth. And Antonov had survived the brutal culling of the time-traveling crew by the Prax and crappy circumstances, ending up as Halloran’s chosen Executive Officer aboard their commandeered Prax warship. The USS Serapis.

  Next to the taciturn Russian sat Lieutenant Mark Hummel, who kept his eyes down and his thoughts to himself. Formerly the Bonhomme Richard’s supply officer, Hummel had taken over broader duties aboard this new ship, beginning with watching over the engineering project underway by Wyatt and Travers. Halloran trusted the young, aspirational officer to keep order as was in his DNA.

  Across from them, on Halloran’s right, were two empty seats with one occupied strategically between them. Master Chief Petty Officer Abran Reyes returned Halloran’s look and secret grin with a slight nod. Reyes had been handpicked by Halloran as the Chief of the Boat for Bonhomme Richard. The stocky, intense Cuban was his closest confidant and the unquestioned leader of the crew. Even the massive Axxa hesitated in the face of the Chief’s wrath despite having nearly a meter in height advantage.

  I’m so glad Abran had not gotten to that altercation before me, Halloran found himself thinking with humor. He’d have beaten both of them into a pulp rather than negotiating with them.

  “Something funny, sir?”

  Halloran came back and shook his head at Reyes. “I’ll tell you later. I like where you’re sitting.”

  “Our two lovebirds?”

  Halloran caught himself staring. “How’d—.” It had been less than fifteen minutes.

  Reyes shrugged. “My job.”

  Moments later the door swung open and admitted Captain Kendra, who paused only for a moment to scan the room before pointing herself at one of the remaining seats next to Reyes.

  Lastly, the Prax entered—most likely had timed it so he wouldn’t be in the doorway at the same time as Kendra—and all eyes went to him. Despite his clearly humanoid appearance, the Prax were an imposing presence when in a confined space such as this. Axxa’s skin was a dull rust-red and his hair dark charcoal in color, with bright, focused green-tinted eyeballs. His physique was impressive, and like all the other Prax Halloran had had the misfortune to encounter, he was pushing two and half meters in height. Still, the room had been constructed for his people and he fit in easily, sliding into the only open seat. Several of those around the table stared openly, clearly still less-than-comfortable with the alien’s presence even after the weeks they’d spent in his presence.

  Rather than take his own seat, Halloran paced up and down a few times, lost in thought and setting the mood somewhat. Finally, he stopped and placed a fist on the point of the Table. “Mark, Trigg, talk to me about engineering.”

  Hummel glanced at Wyatt before answering. “Well, sir, the main reactor appears to be functioning within normal parameters. Axxa here tells us that the jumpdrive is in working order.”

  “It is,” the Prax commented, his language translated by the devices everyone wore at the base of their skull on the right rear. They hurt when implanted.

  “We have full normal-space capability as well. For all intents and purposes, the engines themselves escaped any major damage in the battle.” Hummel looked up at Halloran. “I just want all of us on the team to be thoroughly familiar with the equipment going into our next situation. No engines, no go…sir.”

  Halloran nodded. “Agreed.” He looked at Travers pointedly. “Thank you, Lieutenant, for your assistance down there. I hear you’re a whiz kid.”

  The young man noticeably flushed at the compliment delivered through his translator. The language spoken by all humans in this time was called ‘Standard.’ He nodded. “I…appreciate that, sir. You have excellent officers.”

  Halloran caught Reyes’ amused look. Buttering up the junior officers.

  He glanced down at Antonov. “XO, Chief, we’ve got damage issues.”

  Antonov nodded slowly. “Several large holes in the outer hull from the prior engagement that will need a dockyard, according to Captain Kendra.” He nodded across the table at her. “Numerous system outages—we just don’t know how to chase down the break points. Those projectiles passed clean through the ship in places, poking holes as small as twenty centimeters through eight or ten inner hull walls along with everything in those compartments. Nasty weapons,” he ended with a frown.

  Reyes spoke up. “Crew is working ‘round the clock, as you know, sir. Rations are non-existent; I’ve got people poking around those systems, and it’s a priority.”

  “Yes, yes it is, Chief. The Navy always has the chow.” Halloran caught Kendra’s puzzled look before continuing, sitting in the single remaining seat. “We have the ability to run and gun at the moment—if we need to. But, our damage and overtaxed crew necessitate corrective steps. Then there’s the significant hull damage.” He looked around at the group, catching each eye. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  Hummel spoke up. “I guess Pearl’s out of the question. One drink at Wiki Waki Woo and I think I’d get my strength back.”

  Halloran shook his head. “Not helpful.” Reyes grunted something that sounded like “officers” under his breath.

  Kendra was looking at Travers. Halloran watched them communicate with their eyes before interrupting. “Do the Fleet officers have an idea?”

  She faced him. “Tavar.”

  “Tavar.”

  “It’s the planet where the material needed to create Tavarran steel was discovered. In the Struve system—I’d have to double-check the distance from our position but it would be the logical place to seek replacement Tavarran steel hull sections. Unfortunately, you can’t mate Tavarran with Terran steel. Or Praxxan that I understand. In a hull at least.”

  Halloran nodded slowly. “Tavar.”

  She nodded at Axxa. “Although it's never been explained how a Prax ship is composed of Tavarran steel. That planet and system is crawling with Fleet protection.”

  Hummel leaned on the table, hands out in front of him. “And this place is the only source of the material?”

  She folded her arms. “Well, you could fly up to a Fleet station and demand a refit, but I don’t think that would go too well for you.”

  Hummel frowned at her. “We could hold our own.”

  Her snort set the atmosphere around the table on edge.

  Halloran regained control. “So how is Tavar a better option? You say it’s well-protected.”

  She caught his disapproving look as she glanced his way. “Um, well. The miners are an independent colony. Very independent. I bet they’d be willing to trade with us privately if we could get to them.”

  Travers nodded when Halloran looked to him for corroboration. “I’ve heard this as well, Captain.”

  Trigg spoke. “That would mean using the jumpdrive.” He sounded awestruck at the prospect.

  Halloran pursed his lips as he looked around the table one more time. It felt good to have a wardroom talk—even if the tension between Kendra and Axxa could be cut by a knife, poisoning the goodwill that could be growing through comaraderie
. He’d have to do something about that. For the first time, Halloran considered dropping Kendra somewhere rather than keeping her aboard. But there was nowhere.

  The scans showed that they were outside the star system and heading on a general course toward Sol, but they needed to do something to fix the ship. And maybe these Tavarrans could help with repairing other components… “We will use the jumpdrive to proceed to Tavar and attempt to insert ourselves without detection, seeking to investigate the mining operation and make friendly contact without poking the hornet’s nest in the process.” He glanced at Carruthers. “Lieutenant Carruthers and I are working on understanding the Hidden Claw device and I plan to engage it the moment we arrive near Tavar. And we can all offer our congratulations on her promotion.”

  The chorus of well-wishes passed around the table until Travers piped up. “’Hidden Claw?’”

  Carruthers shrugged. “We found its name in the schematics.” She looked at Axxa somewhat timidly.

  The alien’s face didn’t register any emotion. “A reference to one of the many birds of prey on our world.”

  After a few more moments Halloran said, “Dismissed, and thank you.”

  Chapter 4

  Prax Homeworld

  26.8 LY From Earth

  The heat was intense this morning, the high season reaching its apex of the cycle. The guard booths stationed around the Center were recessed into cooled alcoves, out of the burning rays of the competing suns. Reddish dust rose in the air, swirling in clouds that seemed to take on a life of their own, twisting this way and that as if in anguish before dissipating and reforming. The Corpus troops who served as the honor guard for the Great City and Center of the Praxxan mission of Conquest were well-trained and more than smart enough to avoid activities that took them outside the facility unless a deployment was ordered. Which every now and then was done by a mid-level officer attempting to gain favor within the strict military system.

  The guards at one booth in particular were currently standing aside, quietly watching the visitor to their station out of the corner of their eyes as they remained stiffly at attention.

  The visitor’s hand motioned for them to relax. “Please, you’re making me nervous. I just like to watch the sun's rise. I’ll be away shortly.”

  Ryax, the lead guard at this station, motioned for his group to disperse. As they drifted away, eyes still on their well-known guest, he moved closer instead. “You find the view from this station preferable, Lord?”

  The Premier of the Praxxan Empire cast a side-wise look at the officer. “Don’t you?” He returned his gaze to the red horizon, beyond the city, where the immense mountain range rose in the hazy pink sky. “So how is my old friend’s youngest son?”

  Ryax stood next to his ruler, unafraid. He knew that his men would understand. “I am well, Lord.” After a moment he added the question. “What brings our Premier to my humble station this morning?”

  The Premier chuckled. “I know that my wife prefers this location, and now I begin to understand her occasional diversions to visit her son’s closest friend.” He waved at the view through the window.

  Ryax nodded. “And what of my friend Axxa?”

  The Premier turned to the young man, sparing a look around at the soldiers in the room. Aside from Ryax’s unit, he was alone. Not wise for a Premier to move alone. “He is, as usual, enmeshed in affairs beyond the scope of his ability.”

  “Sounds like my Axxa…Lord.”

  “I have my own challenges dealing with a new threat—from within.”

  Ryax stiffened. “It cannot be.”

  “It can and is. I am here to enlist you to my cause.”

  “Lord, you have my loyalty, unto death.”

  The Premier nodded understandingly. “I am sure of it. But a See’r has foreseen the exposure of a plan, a wide-ranging one, that threatens all of us. I would ask you to assist me in investigating this concern within the Center.”

  “Of course—.”

  The Premier raised a hand, stopping Ryax. “Slow, and sure. Do not raise awareness. Your ability to move within the system and justification for requesting information shall be your strength. I will clear away any remaining roadblocks to collecting data.” He laid the hand on the officer’s shoulder. “Axxa is presumed lost in the Sol system, Ryax.”

  The young man’s intake of breath showed his regard for the Premier’s son. “May it never be.”

  “I too, feel that way. There have been other developments there that buoy my hopes that he yet lives, however.”

  Ryax’s eyes were serious. “Lord, whatever I can do.”

  The Premier nodded. “We shall talk later, after you have begun with your task. Any transactions, conversations recorded that might be of interest to me. You know how to proceed.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  With a last look at the still-rising suns, The Praxxan ruler tapped Ryax on the shoulder and turned away, striding through the entrance and disappearing into the passage beyond.

  One of Ryax’s troops sidled up to the officer. “Commander, what did he want?” The soldier was clearly awestruck by the leader’s presence.

  Ryax looked at the Prax. “The same thing Lord Sar’yana always wants when she stops down here; a good look at the morning sun.”

  “Sir…”

  Ryax waved a hand. “Back to your post. Excitement’s over.”

  As the guard walked off shaking his head, Ryax took in the suns rising for himself. Beautiful. And dangerous for all caught in their heat. Just like the High Family of Prax.

  The Premier could feel the eyes upon him as he entered the council chambers. Hundreds of representatives from the many Conquered Worlds were arriving daily, in advance of the Rite ceremony and the strategy meetings that accompanied it. Already there were many here, mostly Prax of the strong families who had a member who’d ascended to Prime in a conquered system. And their extensive retinues of servants and advisors.

  As he advanced toward the Center Circle he stopped often to exchange pleasantries with those he knew well. During his tenure as Premier he had determined to win over coalitions of support from the Conquered Worlds using frank, open communications and ample military supply—a sharp departure from past Premiers who’d ruled through intimidation and assassination. Not that he hadn’t strayed at times and ordered a disappearance or two…he had his own approach to assessing threats.

  And the threats today were real.

  A hidden force was whispering in the background, winning Lords over among the strong families and organizing a coup. He had become aware early on and long suspected Talxen of the Sol system as its root. Now, as he surveyed the immense, high-ceilinged chamber and the groups of those present, a chill of danger ran down his spine and cooled his naturally hot blood.

  A large, intimidating Warrior-Lord was before him, bowing slightly. Too slightly. “Premier, it is good to see you again.”

  The Premier assented with a nod. “Haryx. I trust your long trip wasn’t too arduous?”

  Haryx flashed his teeth in what passed for a Prax grin. “The flight from Gliebe system took twice as long with our malfunctioning drive.”

  The Premier nodded gravely. The Praxxan jumpdrives were still inferior to the original human designs they had captured. “I am glad to see you here.”

  Haryx glanced around. “I stand with you.”

  This Lord was in his column yet, thought the Premier as he laid a hand on the Prax’s shoulder and passed by. But many standing around and nodding as he passed were more likely to side with the coup; the ones who were older or more militaristic.

  Not that he lacked prowess or courage when it came to affairs of the Conquest. He firmly adhered to the long-held mantra of “Conquer to thrive” that gripped the Praxxan psyche. An honored warrior from a long line of leaders on the battlefield, the Premier had cemented his status within their society many cycles ago. His two sons were, in their own right, lauded heroes of the Conquest.

  It was his approa
ch to governance within the society that angered many. Negotiation rather than domination by force, including Conquered Worlds into Prax culture, empowering the Primes to effect more open changes and avoid repression once a world was cleansed of opposition.

  He reached his seat at the head of the Circle. This assembly would be a discussion of how to address the current shortages of supplies arising from the war with the humans.

  As he settled into his seat, he wondered once again where Axxa was. He resented those females who held access to the Sight so closely, desiring the ability for himself to sense the movements of destiny and the figures caught up in it. He would inquire about Axxa, who he had come to realize was most likely a victim of assassination by that schemer Talxen on Earth.

  Talxen came from a strong family, of course, and though he’d been part of the human war in the early days, he’d far from proven himself. But, upon his return to Prax he’d lobbied—successfully—for an appointment to Prime status based upon his military record. The Premier had had little choice, in the interests of keeping peace with Talxen’s family, than to capitulate. An unfortunate sign of weakness. He’d attempted to mitigate things by giving Talxen the Sol system as his jurisdiction, in the hope that the active conflict with the humans there would give Talxen opportunities to shine.

  The head of Talxen’s family, Terxan, sat across from the Premier at that moment. Their eyes locked across the space, but no nods were exchanged. Old rivals, Terxan and the Premier shared no love either.

  The Sol system was a problem, and the humans were far more tenacious than the Prax had originally planned for when launching the Earth invasion. The human space fleet was powerful even as the Prax secured the human homeworld and began eliminating pockets of resistance around the star system. Talxen had failed to score a conclusive victory over the human force, despite the leadership of the Premier’s old friend Xylan at the head of their fleet in-system. And now, Axxa was gone. The Premier knew that Talxen and his family was weaving a web around him. But how far had it progressed?