A Show of Force (35 page)

Josh’s eyes widened. He looked at Loki, then back at the major. “We passed?”

“Technically, no…”

“But you just said…”

“Like I said, times are different. The need is greater, and therefore the criteria are different.”

“Are we in or not?” Josh wondered.

“Yes, you are in. You are no longer cadets. You are now both ensigns in the Alliance.”

“Yes!” Josh leaned back in his chair, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks.

Loki did not look as excited. “In what areas were we deficient?”

“It’s not as much a matter of deficiency,” the major explained. “You both demonstrated acceptable levels of knowledge and expertise, as well as the minimum necessary skills to serve as pilots and officers within the Alliance.”

“But you said we would not have passed had this been on Corinair?”

“I also said that this was not a normal situation.”

“So, we’re in because you have no one better,” Loki surmised.

“Who cares? We’re in,” Josh exclaimed.

“I care,” Loki insisted.

“The Corinari was composed of only the best. The requirements were so high that there were years where none of the applicants were accepted. The difference is that the Corinari were not facing a crisis, and therefore could afford to be far more particular about their applicants. The Corinari believed in a small, highly trained, exceptionally talented force. Such is not the case with the Alliance. To put it bluntly, we need butts in the cockpits. The Karuzara has at least thirty more Falcons coming off the line in the next few months. They’re useless to us without crews. So now, we look more for potential than qualifications.”

“I see.”

“You don’t look happy, Ensign Sheehan,” Major Prechitt said.

“I had hoped to score higher, I guess.”

“Well, on the knowledge tests, you scored extremely high. High enough, in fact, that you would have been accepted even by the Corinari. However,
your
flying, while adequate, showed little in the way of instinct. You flew proficiently, executing every maneuver per protocol. That is good enough for the Alliance, but it would not have been good enough for the Corinari.” The major looked at Loki. “This was to be expected, considering your original training was for flying commercial shuttles.”

“I told you to fly like me,” Josh said.

“Ensign Hayes, on the other hand, barely squeaked by on the knowledge test and orals. Had it not been for his exceptional piloting skills, he would not have been accepted. The bottom line is that you both have talents that the Alliance needs. We knew that from day one, otherwise we wouldn’t have offered you a position.”

“So you knew we’d pass?” Josh wondered, looking confused.

“It was never a matter of pass or fail with either of you,” the major replied. “You had already demonstrated your skills under considerable duress. Hell, you two have more combat stick time than most Corinari pilots. We only dangled the specter of failure over your heads to motivate you… actually, more Josh than you, Loki…”

“What?” Josh exclaimed.

“…We always wanted both of you in the Alliance. We just needed you to complete some form of training so that you could operate as part of a team, rather than as a rogue ship pulling off the impossible.”

“Can I just confirm a few things here?” Josh asked.

“Of course.”

“Are we in the Alliance?”

“Why do you think I keep referring to you as ensigns?”

“Okay,” Josh continued, “do we get to keep flying a Falcon?”

“Yes.”

“Do we get to keep flying together?”

“For the most part, yes.”

“What do you mean, for the most part?”

“You’ll continue flying missions together,” Major Prechitt explained, “but we also want you both to help train incoming flight crews.”

Josh’s eyes widened, his head jerking back slightly. “Whoa. I didn’t see that one coming.”

“You want us to train people?” Loki seemed equally surprised.

“The two of you are a great team,” Major Prechitt said. “Each of you brings what the other doesn’t have. For a Falcon, you’re a perfect pair. Wild abandon coupled with natural instinct in the front seat, discipline and analysis in the back seat.”

“Pardon, sir,” Loki interrupted, “but surely there are better choices for instructors?”

“Actually, everyone is going to be doing some instructing. We don’t have that many flight crews left, but we do have quite a few applicants.”

“Do the applicants even know how to fly?” Josh asked.

“Most of them do, yes. Right now, though, we only need about fifty pilots. Thirty of them for Falcons, and the other twenty for Eagles.”

“Then back-seaters in Falcons won’t be pilots?” Loki asked.

“For now. We simply don’t have enough applicants with flight experience. Besides, in order to piece together so many Falcons, they needed to remove the flight controls from the second seats. Of the twelve Falcons still flying with dual flight controls, eight of them will have the second set removed, and the remaining four will be taken off the combat line to be used as trainers.”

“Is that really necessary?” Loki wondered.

“It is if we’re going to upgrade your weapons.”

“We’re getting bigger guns?” Josh wondered.

“The plan is to combine your weapons bays into one large bay to hold a plasma torpedo cannon. We’re also thickening the outer aspect of your wings to accommodate mini-plasma turrets. So, you’ll need the extra room in the back of the cockpit for the additional weapons control systems.”

“Won’t that create a drag problem?” Loki wondered. “The Falcon is not great in aerodynamic flight as it is. She just makes up for it with brute force.”

“The role of the Falcon is changing. When is the last time you flew from the surface to orbit or vice versa?”

“We always jump,” Josh replied. “Saves time and propellant.”

“Exactly.”

“What about ground-support missions?” Loki asked.

“You’ll still fly them, at least for a while. Eventually, that role will be handled by combat jump shuttles and Kalibri airships.”

“If I’m not going to have flight controls in the back, what am I supposed to do when Josh is being an idiot?”

“Reach forward and smack him on the side of the head,” Major Prechitt said, a smile on his face.

“He’s usually wearing a helmet.”

“Then smack him harder.” Major Prechitt stood. “Congratulations, Ensigns. Now, get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Loki said, standing as well and shaking the major’s hand.

“Thank you, sir,” Josh said, following Loki’s example.

Major Prechitt turned and left the room. Josh turned to Loki and hugged him. “Thanks, Loki,” he said. “I never would have made it without you.”

* * *

Doctor Galloway ran down the corridor of the hospital and turned the corner, bursting through the double doors that led into the nanite therapy unit. She stopped short as she approached treatment bay four, the location of the code call. Inside she could see the code team working on Mister Abarta, doing everything they could to revive the husband and father of four, who had suffered from radiation exposure during the last bombardment of Earth by the Jung.

She watched for several minutes. She wanted to go in and help, but the room was already full of medical professionals who were trained for this particular situation. She knew that on Corinair, the patient had a far better chance of survival, but she was forced to work with what they had available to them on Earth. In many cases, it was better to let the medical professionals of Earth provide the care, as despite the fact that their medical technologies were inferior to that of Corinair, they had far more experience operating with what they had available.

Soon the efforts ceased, and the code team started filing out of the treatment bay, to be replaced by those who handled the bodies of the deceased. She looked at Doctor Hammond, the young doctor with whom she had worked closely for the last few weeks, as he came out of Mister Abarta’s bay.

“Full systems failure,” Doctor Hammond said.

“I will need to examine the nanites still within him,” Doctor Galloway replied.

“I’ll see to it,” Doctor Hammond promised, continuing on to the exit.

Doctor Galloway turned and watched him go, then turned back to face treatment bay four. Mister Abarta lay there, motionless, his breathing tube still sticking out of his mouth, his IVs still connected to his arms and neck. All she could think about was that the man should have lived. His exposure, although severe, should have been healed by the nanites.

She could only pray that his death would ultimately reveal the cause of the nanite failures, and therefore prevent the scene from repeating itself again and again in the days and weeks to come.

* * *

Captain Navarro stepped out of his personal shuttle and onto the poorly lit tarmac at the Torrence spaceport. He looked about, pulling his collar up against the chilly night air. As usual, the tiny island of Torrence was shrouded in fog. He stepped forward, making room for three Ghatazhak soldiers to disembark as well, one of whom was an officer. The four of them began the short walk across the open pavement toward another shuttle in the distance.

The door on the other shuttle opened, and a well-dressed gentleman not much older than Navarro stepped out and began to walk toward him. “Captain Navarro,” the gentleman greeted.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Captain Navarro said as he approached.

“Names are not important,” the man replied. “However, if you require one, you may call me Illya.”

“I was told there was a matter of the utmost urgency to discuss,” Captain Navarro stated, one eyebrow raised.

“Odd that you should come in the company of such men,” the man called Illya stated, pointing at the Ghatazhak.

“These are dangerous times,” Captain Navarro stated. “One cannot be too careful, especially when asked to meet in a remote location, in clandestine fashion… and with a man known only as ‘Illya’.”

“I see your point,” Illya replied. “However, you have nothing to fear, my dear captain. Had my employers wished you dead, you would already be so.”

“Should I take that as a threat?” Captain Navarro wondered.

“Indeed, no. I am merely stating fact. Besides, what possible gain could there be by killing the captain of the Avendahl?”

“Or the murder of a young girl?”

“Collateral damage,” Illya replied.

“Perhaps you should say what you wish me to hear,” Navarro said, “or rather, what your employers wish me to hear.”

“I assume you are aware of recent events, so I shall not waste your time reviewing them. Suffice to say that a change is coming… a change both swift and sure.”

“What is this change to which you refer?”

“Legal concerns prevent me from speaking freely about such matters, lest I be labeled a conspirator. I am merely a messenger. However, this change will require all the noble houses of Takara to choose a side.”

“Meaning for, or against House Ta’Akar,” Navarro surmised.

“A logical assumption on your part, I’m sure.”

“You do realize that as an officer in service of Takara, I could arrest you for acts of treason?”

“I have committed no such offense,” Illya insisted. “I have merely made an observation based on current events and public opinion. One that includes those of my employers.”

“Regardless…”

“Arresting me would serve no purpose,” Illya said. “I am expendable. I would perish within minutes of my arrest, leaving you with nothing but explanations to make to the authorities, I’m afraid.”

Captain Navarro sighed. “I grow tired of the cold ocean air, and of your melodramatic conversational style, Mister Illya. Convey directly what your employers wish me to hear or be on your way.”

“Side with my employers, and you shall be handsomely rewarded. Side with House Ta’Akar, and your only reward shall be death. Death for you,
and
your entire house.”

Commander Erbe drew his sidearm in the blink of an eye, taking aim at Illya’s forehead. “Allow me the honor, my captain.”

Captain Navarro placed his hand on the top of Commander Erbe’s sidearm, pushing it gently downward. “You have delivered your message.” He looked Illya in the eyes. “Now it is time for you to leave.”

“Of course,” Illya replied, trying to be as gracious as possible. “Perhaps you have a message of your own for me to deliver to my employers?”

“You may tell your employers that Captain Suvan Navarro, leader of House Navarro and commander of the Avendahl, shall do what he believes to be the right thing for all of Takara, if and when such action becomes necessary. You may also tell your employers that any action against House Navarro will be met with the full force of the Avendahl, regardless of which ‘side’ takes such action.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Illya bowed politely and took several steps backward before turning around and boarding his shuttle.

Captain Suvan turned and headed back to his own shuttle.

“You should have let me kill the little
bezatte
,” Commander Erbe grumbled.

“I’m sure the opportunity will present itself again, Commander,” Captain Navarro said as he headed up the ramp to his shuttle, “and soon.”

* * *

Doctor Hammond looked at the clock on the wall of treatment bay seven. “That’s it, people. Time of death, fifteen twenty.” He pulled his gloves off as he headed for the door, tossing them into the bio-hazard receptacle by the door on his way out.

“That’s the fifth one in the last twenty-four hours,” Doctor Galloway said as Doctor Hammond approached.

“I have the results from Mister Abarta’s autopsy, Doctor,” the nurse said as she handed a data pad to Doctor Galloway.

Doctor Galloway took the data pad. “It’s about time.”

“They’re just as overloaded as we are,” Doctor Hammond said.

“Of course.” Doctor Galloway studied the results on the data pad, her eyes narrowing and her eyebrows furrowed.

“What is it?” Doctor Hammond asked, noticing her concerned expression.

“This is all wrong,” she said, as she began flipping through the pages on the data pad. “Nanite counts, composition, groupings… this doesn’t make sense. Some of them are still active.”

“Is that abnormal?”

“Once the body dies, the nanites are supposed to shut down.”

“Are you saying they’re trying to revive a dead man?”

“No, nothing like that. There’s no evidence that the nanites in Mister Abarta’s body ever did any repair work whatsoever.” She continued flipping through pages on the data pad.