Michael Anderle - [Heretic of the Federation 03]

by Time to Fear (epub)

  “But you still have the blueprints, right?”

  “Yes, but no access to the materials.”

  Ivy swished her hand. “Pfft. Details.”

  She stowed the processor, a foldable keyboard, and an extra RAM kit, then dithered in front of the jacks and tool kits.

  “Why don’t you take one of each?” John suggested helpfully as he went through the check procedure on an outsized blaster.

  Remy looked over his shoulder. “That’ll be difficult to conceal, don’t you think?”

  John vanished from before his eyes and there was a smile in his reply.

  “Nope.”

  “Wanna swap partners?” Amaratne joked. “I could do with that launcher.”

  The young mage reappeared and wound a possessive arm around Ivy’s waist, and the smile vanished from his voice. “Nope.”

  Ivy tucked the computer equipment into her bag and picked up another of the big blasters, hefting it easily. Surprise crept into her expression, and she turned and bounced the big gun in both hands.

  “When did I get strong enough to carry this?” she asked.

  “And make it look so easy,” the admiral commented, almost envious.

  “While you were sleeping,” Roma replied tartly and added, “and we can do the same for you, Admiral, once your rejuvenation is complete.”

  “You can?” Amaratne asked. “Truly? Because—”

  Roma tutted. “One small step at a time, Admiral. Your system can only take so much tampering at one time.”

  He looked at the size of Ivy’s pack and remembered her speed and grace when she sparred with John. “Roma, you need to tamper as fast as you can.”

  The AI responded with a very human sigh. “I’m going as fast as I dare. Human impatience aside, you are fitter and healthier and physically younger than when you arrived. Any faster and—”

  Amaratne held a hand up and turned to the bug bombs he’d found stashed behind the scramblers. He picked one up carefully and waved it at the sensor.

  “When were you going to tell me about these?”

  “I assumed you’d find them given the opportunity,” Roma answered.

  Ted’s voice interrupted what she intended to say next.

  “Tell them to hurry. I’ll have the cars at your location inside fifteen minutes.”

  He signed out with an audible snap. Amaratne sighed and stowed half a dozen of the bugs in the lining of the “fat suit” he’d pulled on as soon as he’d seen it.

  “Fine! Keep your invisibility,” he’d told John. “I get to be the jolly fat guy who brings unexpected surprises to deserving children.”

  John stared at him. “You’re missing your sleigh and the reindeer have absconded.”

  The admiral patted his rounded form. “I don’t need no stinkin’ reindeer, and I’m bringing my own version of ‘slay’ to the table.”

  Ivy groaned. “You are a dad, right?”

  “Well…yes,” Amaratne admitted. “It was a while ago now, but I think the title still holds.”

  “So, you truly do have a license for that terrible joke.” She sounded defeated and he grinned.

  “I truly, truly do. Do you want to hear another one?”

  The resulting “No!” came from three directions, and he turned away with a chuckle and stowed more of the bugs into the compartments built into the suit.

  “Roma, next time we get one of these, can it be wearing Arman Dior?”

  “What’s the matter, Admiral? Dysart’s Community Brand not good enough?”

  “No, it’s good enough for the administrator I’m supposed to be, but next time, I might want to explode something that requires exclusive access. You know, somewhere with fancy hors d’oeuvres and champagne.”

  “Admiral, I can’t think of any occasion that might require that.”

  “Give me time, Roma,” he told her. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

  He hummed a nameless tune as he stowed the last piece and buttoned the oversized jacket. John studied him with interest as he tucked a piece of loose wiring below his collar line.

  “You look…good,” he said, “for an old, fat guy who needs to report some stolen reindeer.”

  Amaratne turned but Roma intervened.

  “The cars will arrive in five minutes.”

  The three humans looked at each other and then at the room around them. Each one tried to determine if anything else could fit into their packs and if they really needed it.

  “Two minutes,” Roma reminded them when they had stood still for too long.

  Ivy snatched another couple of magazines and picked a grenade up.

  “Can your magic shield these from detection?” she asked, and Amaratne scowled.

  “Just…try not to grab too many,” John told her.

  Remy moved to the door and the admiral followed. Both activated their comms as they waited for Ivy. Once she was done, they headed up and jogged to the foyer.

  “We’d never pass as techs,” she said as she looked at John’s pack.

  “It’s a good thing we won’t need to then,” the young mage replied as they crossed the walkway and stepped out of the gate.

  The cars arrived in a swirl of dust.

  Amaratne looked at the others. “It’s time to do or die.”

  John handed Ivy into the car and gave him a stern look.

  “No one’s allowed to die.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I’m sorry, sir, but it simply…won’t…” The young engineer sighed and held up the offending part.

  Cameron looked at it and focused on the engineer.

  “Won’t what?”

  “It won’t fit in the space provided.”

  The chief frowned as he examined the gap the young man tried to fit the piece into.

  “Does it mesh?”

  “Well…yes, sir, and that’s the frustrating part. It meshes perfectly, but it protrudes past the casing by a good quarter-inch.”

  “And we can’t leave that part of the engine exposed,” Cameron concluded as he studied the workings.

  “No, sir,” the tech agreed despondently. “We can’t.”

  The chief took the part from his hands and knelt beside the housing.

  “There’s nothing stopping us from making the space larger.”

  “Sir?”

  He looked up and smiled, and his hand groped through the tool bag beside them until he found a small ball-peen hammer. Turning to the engine, he fitted the piece in place and lowered the housing around it to see exactly how much space was required.

  “We’ve got this,” he told the man and raised the casing again. “We only have to…” He grunted and turned on his side to get a better angle on the housing.

  “Back when the Federation was still on speaking terms with the Russians and we had joint crews, their engineers had one solution for most of the problems their drives encountered.”

  He raised the hammer and slammed it into the housing.

  “They…” He examined the dent he’d made and struck again. “Would..."

  After another check, he made a slight alteration to the hammer’s angle.

  “Beat…it…”

  He studied it closely, made another slight adjustment, and went to town on it.

  “Into…submission.”

  Finally, he stopped, slid the part into place, and lowered the housing while he peered through the ever-narrowing gap to make sure the part had the space it needed. “Run a short test, then look for wear marks. If that alteration is correct, I want it made on every drive. We need this part so she can run faster, right?”

  The engineer nodded and examined the housing with an air of disbelief. “And so she can make the skip translations with more accuracy.”

  He paused and gave Cameron a shocked look. “Did they… They didn’t… Did they?”

  The chief gave him a secretive smile and continued to walk through the engine room, checking the work being done against the list on his tablet for the wor
k that was still outstanding.

  He wasn’t the only older hand using a hammer. On the gun deck, one of Tempestarii’s newer crew stared in horror as Karl landed a glancing blow on the edge of a cog.

  “There!” he said as the recalcitrant piece slipped into place. “Exactly like a bought one.”

  “But—” The youngster turned to the woman with the tattooed knuckles. “He can’t—”

  He stopped as she set one of the new mechanisms on the ground and pounded it decisively. “But… Wait—what are you doing?”

  “You said we needed this to help the gun run cooler, right?” She glanced at him.

  “Yes, but I don’t think it’ll work well if you hit it.”

  She continued to pound the piece for a few seconds more, then lifted it and inspected it, and slid it into the space and out again.

  “Give me a minute,” she told him and headed to the grinder.

  “What’s she doing?”

  “Bringing it back into spec, I think,” Karl replied and glanced up from where he was making sure the cog was working well with the pieces around it.

  “But…that’s a precision part,” the tech protested.

  “That’s right,” Karl reassured him, “and so is every other piece fitted to the gun. We make sure of that.”

  “But…you…”

  “Yup,” the older man told him. “It’s an old engineering trick. Be as precise as you can, but if your perfect piece won’t align with reality, you gotta hit it until it does.”

  “And then grind it back into shape,” the female gunner told him and returned with the piece in her hand. “It’s called recalibration.”

  She knelt beside the gun and settled the recalibrated part in the slot.

  “Let’s get Ebony to check it.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” the Knight told her. “It is nice to see you again, Pippa.”

  “It’s a pleasure to be back on board,” Pippa told her. “Check the gun. If you like it, we’ll pass the word on the upgrade.”

  A few moments later, the Knight spoke to the crowd gathered around the weapon.

  “Spread the word, Pippa, and thank you. That’ll turn a few heads in battle.”

  The woman chuckled and patted the gun’s housing. “Yeah, but only after it’s exploded them.”

  All through the ship, less battle-worn technicians and engineers were getting a crash course in field-fitting. It took them a little while to get their heads around it but when they did, they were almost gleeful.

  “You know this breaks almost every rule we have on how to do things, right?” a woman asked one of the senior Knight technicians.

  The other woman smiled. “I felt the same way when it was explained to me, but it’s saved time and lives in battle and we need it.”

  The work moved faster as the newer hands took the lessons they were handed and applied them. Parts that might have been useless because they were “close” but didn’t quite fit the Knight’s specs became usable and the stores database was updated.

  The inside of the ship rang with repair and recalibration in equal amounts. The outside of the ship echoed the activity with one noticeable exception. The Tempestarii’s Dreth had discovered a niche the humans couldn’t fill.

  They simply didn’t have the strength.

  It had all started when one of the older engineers had looked over and seen a Dreth Marine on the concourse.

  “Do you think that’s Vishlog?" she’d asked. “Because I remember how much faster this went with him helping.”

  Her male colleague had looked around. “I thought he was in a meeting with Steph. Besides, there aren’t two of him.”

  “The smaller one’s Garach.”

  “I know, but that one’s not smaller and he’s brought a friend.”

  “The Tempestarii has Dreth on board?”

  “It looks like it.”

  “Do you think they’d mind helping us with these panels?”

  “I don’t know. Those look like Marines, and you know how touchy their warriors can be.”

  The woman watched the Dreth watching them.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she decided. “We need their help to get this job done fast. Sure, it’s not glamorous work, but it is their planet we’re trying to save.”

  Fortunately, the Dreth felt that way too and were singularly honored.

  “It is not only lifting panels,” the Dreth sergeant told her when she apologized for asking. He gestured at the ship. “It is helping a warrior don her armor.”

  “I…” the woman began, and the warrior clapped her on the back and almost knocked her over.

  “We are not technicians, but we do know how to maintain our armor and weapons, and this warrior needs our strength and your hands. I will arrange the duty roster if you will introduce us to your teams.”

  He studied the Knight and his lips curled to reveal his tusks.

  “All my life, I have heard stories of the Witch—how she fought in the same battles as my father and grandfather, how she saved our world, and how she promised to return. To be a part of such legends…”

  His voice faded, and the warriors around him growled their appreciation. The sergeant stooped to look her in the eye.

  “We are honored to speed her path.”

  Stephanie found Cameron on his third round through the engine room.

  “How’s it going?” she asked and winced at the sound of metal being beaten into submission.

  “Much better now we’ve worked out how to fit all the new parts.”

  She smiled. “That’s good because BURT’s given me a few tips on redirecting the flow of magic so it works more efficiently.”

  He returned her smile. “I wondered when you’d show up. Some of those parts fit nicely but didn’t seem to do much.”

  “Which is the best drive to work on so we can test each change as it goes through?”

  The chief walked to the far corner. “This one. We’ve used it as our guinea pig for all the rest.”

  “I see. BURT?”

  “That drive will do nicely, Stephanie. Cameron, it’s been a long time.”

  “It has, old friend, but your girl got us through and we’re here.”

  “For which I am both proud and grateful,” BURT told him.

  Cameron gestured at the engines. “What do you need?” he asked.

  The AI chuckled. “It’s what you need,” he replied, “or, rather, what my daughter needs to augment her already more than satisfactory drives.”

  From the way he spoke, the chief got the impression that the Knight was not very impressed with the amount of tinkering happening to her person, but BURT didn’t elaborate and the ship didn’t respond.

  “And that is?”

  “We can adjust the flow of MU through them using the new parts you’re installing so it’s less vulnerable to interference from nMU,” Stephanie explained. “Given that there are Teloran mages on the Dreth ships, we assumed there might have been some adjustments to their drive technology, and we want to try to avoid fouling our engines if we hit a patch.”

  She paused. “Or letting our energies leak out where it will foul their engines. BURT’s been telling me how we can manage that.”

  “We can make most of the changes while we’re docked in the hold, but we won’t be able to test them until we’re out of it,” BURT explained.

  “And my sister tells me she won’t appreciate it if I explode while in the docking bay.” the Knight sniffed. “She won’t appreciate it! I’m hoping I won’t explode at all!”

  Todd landed, rolled, and laughed maniacally as the corridor exploded behind him.

  “You…you did what with the huh?” came over his comms, but Todd was too busy running as the angry roar of fifty thoroughly irritated Dreth sounded behind him.

  “Do you have that ready, Ka?” he asked.

  “Yeah, boss, but be careful coming around the co—oh…”

  “And I thought you liked me, corporal!” he exclaimed and leapt
off the floor to drive his feet into the side of the corridor and rebound toward the opposite wall some ten feet down.

  A myriad of lights went out and a small swarm of metal-carapaced bodies surged forward and out from beneath him.

  “I do, boss. It’s why you’re not dead yet,” Ka retorted. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have fifty scramblers to reactivate and get back into position!”

  “Are they here yet?” Todd asked, and Gary shook his head.

  “You know what it’s like, boss. It takes them a while to catch up.”

  “And that’s only if they don’t accidentally blow up,” Piet told him.

  “Very nice,” the sergeant commented as a boom came from the opposite end of the ship.

  “I told you not to touch that,” Piet said.

  “Touch what?” Todd asked.

  “We didn’t.” That came through their ears as well as over their comms. “But there’s a Dreth technician who will never trust a Marine ever again.”

  The Marine sergeant looked very pleased with himself, and Todd shook his head. “You can take a Marine out of the Federation Navy…”

  Ka pulled the jack out of the port she’d created through a data line.

  “Are you boys ready to dance?” she asked and lifted her blaster out of Piet’s hands.

  The sergeant scrutinized her carefully. “Yeah, but I have to warn you I’m all left feet.”

  She returned his inspection and bared her teeth in a pretend smile. “Then you’d better be a dear and let me lead.”

  Several soft hoots followed that remark, and Gary snickered and eased out of their hiding space after her. A shout went up from the other end of the junction and several bolts of energy ripped past them.

  “Try to keep up,” Ka instructed as Todd followed Gary.

  She palmed a door open and left the Marines open-mouthed.

  “What did you think I was doing?” she flung over her shoulder. “The data we need isn’t in this system.”

  “Be nice, Ka,” Todd warned and Reggie groaned.

  “She’s never nice.”

  “Now, now, Reg. I’m only ever not nice to you.” She slid across the open room and opened a hole in a dividing wall using a combination of solids, explosive flechettes, and her body.