Free Fleet #03 No Rest for the Wicked (22 page)

When he asked for it back, the friend said that he would report him to Marhtu for having more food than allowed. Neighbours and friends were supposed to help one another, not steal from each other. He didn't want his boys to grow up in a place like that. So he had accepted Saleeni's offer. Saleeni had given him everything, ways to communicate, ways to get people to work for him, contacts that he had made in different cities. Within a week Narvu was building sleeper cells in every major department within his city. He was the only one who knew more than two other people. Some of them didn't even know that they were under him.

It was complicated, but it was made so that any cell could do anything, coming together in a group or being by themselves. It was perfect and difficult to lure out the leaders, or the other groups. When the Daestramus military was mobilized Narvu got a massive file. It listed all of the people in the military, gave him plans to cities, tidbits of information on different people. Narvu had taken Saleeni’s last present and struck at the heart of the cities. Rebel cells were working to take over the city as the information nets were filled with the names of those that had terrorized the people. Whatever happened Narvu knew that Daestramus was going to be a new planet. He just had to make sure that he didn't allow it to go backwards.

He was using the communications system he'd set up at the shipping control tower when his work screen beeped with an incoming message.

“Well that's interesting,” he said as he thought for a moment. Remembering a couple of numbers, he dialled them in and sent them short messages.

He had a few contacts down on the pads. He didn't think they'd take too kindly to having the secret military landing on their ground. He checked his station, going through the history to see if he missed anything. There was an odd freighter leaving the city. It wasn't listed as a trader. He delved deeper and found that it had been on the pad, serviced but never flown.

“Shit.” He sent a message back to the Free Fleet. The Freighter was running for it, but maybe they could catch it. Narvu knew in his bones that Marhtu was on that ship. The information in front of him only confirmed it.

Chapter - A Win?

Dreckt watched as the two shuttles entered the now opened hangar. His people piled on, carrying their wounded and dead.

“Get those turrets going!” he yelled, seconds later he heard the turrets opening up on anything that was chasing them when they retreated to the shuttles.

The first shuttle took off as Dreckt changed to his pilot's channel.

“Last man!” he said, the ramp lifting up as the shuttle sped into the air. Dreckt was thankful for his mag-boots as the shuttle changed direction, not taking long before it decelerated. The familiar sounds of clamps engaging around the shuttle could be heard as engines cut out.

The ramps lowered as those in need of medical attention were whisked out. Dreckt hated how the whole thing was like a drill to his people. He removed his helmet while he watched everyone take the unconscious Salchar, who was rushed with the other wounded to the sickbay. The ground under Dreckt lurched as the shuttle bay doors closed with alarming speed. He could see the fighters clashing still as Resilient made her exit. Dreckt looked around the shuttle bay. Carsickle and the Commandos that had been left onboard were helping everyone get sorted out. Santos moved through the crowds, people getting out of his way as he hopped onto an elevator. Dreckt nodded to Carsickle as he passed.

“I wish I could've gone,” Carsickle said and Dreckt nodded. It wasn't that the old general wanted to fight.

It was that he wanted to be with his men.

Rick had kept him on-board to organize reinforcements before they went down. It was a shitty job, sending others into battle as you watched, but Carsickle knew Resilient the best and had the rank to get people moving. Dreckt moved on numbly as Carsickle's gauntleted hand tapped his shoulder. Dreckt turned to him.

“I heard,” he said. Dreckt didn't know the man very well, but being part of Resilient's Commando group he had seen and talked to Carsickle quite a lot when first came aboard. Some were a little irritated that Carsickle had been appointed to his current position. The man was good with organizing troops and getting them trained, he was a veteran in his own right.

Though none of that mattered. Dreckt saw the understanding in Carsickle's eyes.

“He did good,” Carsickle said, surprising Dreckt as he felt pride well up inside him at the loss of Kreum.

He had been a goof, and a joker, but he had also been a damn good Commando. He had trained fine warriors and died looking after his brothers and sisters.

“Yes, he did,” Dreckt nodded as Carsickle squeezed his shoulder.

“You need me, just ask,” Carsickle said, Dreckt feeling the weight behind those words as he nodded, turning and leaving. He still had to tell Shminkt and Kareesh.

***

“Get us the fuck out of here if you please, Milra,” Rick yelled.

“With pleasure.” Resilient fired her thrusters, sending her up through the atmosphere as FengFang, Rinky Dink and Toupe led the way.

I don't know if the other races are mocking how we name our ships, or they think that those are actually good names in their language.
Rick thought, the levity of finally getting out of the battle causing him to lose focus. He growled at himself as he checked reports and looked at the Fighters that were covering their retreat in his display.
Felix and Salchar were right. Those damned ships are worth their weight in gold
, he thought as the fighters below broke off their engagement, the enemy running for it.

“I want the Fleet in formation and a million kilometers from this damn planet. Ben, I want a flight plan made up for us to reach Cheerleader,” Rick said.

“On it. COS.”

Rick looked to his med-bay numbers.

“Parse out medical billets and have the Commando's transferred back to their ships immediately. In Sook, you can take over your post as Combined Arms again,”

“Sir!” Rick didn't miss how relieved she sounded. She had been a good second-in-command, but she had found her true calling in combined arms.

Rick scanned the ships.

“Vort, have Daisy Skimmer go to Chaleel and send a message to Parnmal. Have Toupe go to Cheerleader with the same message,” Rick said.

“What would that message be?” Vort asked.

“Update on our actions on target, current status,” Rick was tired as the feeling of battle wore off.

“Sir.”

Rick stayed on the bridge, looking at the reports, their bloody numbers as well as the mechanical issues. Eddie was already getting crews out onto Resilient's hull to repair the massive rents in the armour plating he'd been largely responsible for fixing since her being in the Free Fleet.

“Go check on him,” Marleen said as Rick looked up, about to object until he saw the other's faces.

He stood stoic.

“I'll be back shortly. Marleen you have command,” he quickly left.

If it was at all proper he would've run to the med-bay. The bulkheads and transports seemed to take forever as he got to the bay. It was a mess of people being moved about. Those that were stable and based on other ships were already being sent with their people back to their own med-bays. Resilient's bays were big, but they didn't have the staff or the specialized equipment to treat everyone.

“Resilient, where is he?” Rick said, not wanting to get lost in the mess as she gave him instructions through his implants. He got to an isolated room, a doctor coming out as he was about to enter.

“Get out... Chief of Staff,” she said, looking flustered.

“How are they?” he asked as the doctor’s eyes darted around him, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Physically,’ they’re healing. Mentally, I just don’t know. Some of them have given up. They just don't care anymore. Others blame themselves, and others are disgusted by their inability to do anything. They all need help,” she answered, looking grim.

“Thanks doc,” he said, bracing himself for the worst as they moved past one another and he went into the room.

It was a small ward with four beds. Calerd and two of the second relations team were on the beds. Calerd looked to the ceiling, one of the relations people shivered, as the other rocked himself. Salchar was facing the wall in the bed furthest from the door. Shreesht and Krom moved from where they sat next to the door. They wore new battle suits but painful looking lacerations covered all the skin that Rick could see. There was an anger behind Krom's eyes that scared Rick as he nodded to the man.

Shreesht's eyes were duller than they had ever been before. Where there had always been a bawdy joke there was now a glum look. Rick moved to Salchar.

“James?” he asked as he got closer. The man moved, his red eyes finding Rick. He sat up against his pillows.

“Rick,” He said, a flash of something cold and dark in his eyes, sending a ripple of fear through Rick's spine. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

“We're away from Daestramus. I've got people relaying our status to Parnmal and Cheerleader,” Rick said, not knowing what to say.

“It's my fault,” James said, looking to Rick. “I thought that I could make this universe a better place. I can't. It doesn't want to be better. The Kalu, the pirates, the corrupt, the sadistic, the uncaring, all of them were here before us and they don't care what I think, you think, or what we do. They'll just roll over us and forget us,” James said, looking to the bed, defeat in his eyes.

“James, look at what you've done! You've built a fleet out of nothing, you've given these people hope. Daestramus is changing before our eyes,”

“I sent down a team to get tortured and turned into that fuckers cushions! I sent down another one because I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I went too! I got Janice killed, Dave killed. I GOT FIFTY NINE PEOPLE KILLED! For what? For goddamn fucking nothing!”

Rick felt his heart turn at his friends’ words. He saw the James before he truly became Salchar, the man that had cared for himself because it was easier.

“Don't you understand? It's all for fucking nothing! Lady Fairgate is going to send a bigger fleet, then a bigger, until we're nothing but fucking dust!”

“We've won against impossible odds before!” Rick yelled back, he wasn't going to lose this fight. He needed Salchar, not this person that didn't give a rat’s ass.

“Okay, say we win, then what? We have a bunch of little planets that owe us their lives, and they turn to us, and tell us to fuck right off. They rip up their contracts, piss all over the Free Fleet, and they complain if anything goes bad. It's a bad joke. If we become what we want to be, then we're nothing. The pirates got one thing right. They stopped caring what other people thought, and they did what they wanted. They grabbed the power to change what they wanted, how they wanted, and told the universe where to shove it,”

“You can't believe that, James,” Rick said, pleading for a part of Salchar to be left in there.

“I can't? Look at what the fuck just happened! These people are used to pirates, not people helping one another. We're just looking to get stabbed in the back,”

“We have to take risks to get anywhere. Don't we owe it to these people to help them get to where they can make their own decisions? You made this Free Fleet to give people a chance to prove themselves. We can't just give up on it halfway because you feel a little guilty. I need Salchar back, the man that would piss in the eye of the most feared woman in the known galaxy because he believed in the little guy that's been crapped on by the syndicate all their life,”

Rick stood, walking to the door, turning before he left.

“The Fleet needs you, Salchar, so get over whatever you're going through and hurry up about it. Fifty nine people died for the ideals you came up with. No one in this fleet was going to leave one of their own behind. No matter the cost. No one made them listen to my orders, no kill switches or pain implants. They did it on their own. Think about that before you start complaining about how the universe doesn’t change.”

Rick left. The door shutting behind him as he exhaled, his body shaking.

What the hell did they do to him?
He thought.

“Resilient. I have another message for Daisy Skimmer. This one's for Hachiro though,”

***

Connolly walked through the shuttle bay, admiring the ships. He felt a hand on his back and turned to find a grinning Smith.

“Smith?” he asked. He hadn't seen the pilot that had taken him to Resilient since he'd gone off to fighter school.

“The one the only!” Smith said, smiling as per usual. Connolly clapped his shoulder.

“It's good to see you! What are you doing here?”

“I'm testing out the new fighters, and I’m in Nancy's first fighter wing,” Smith grinned.

“Those fighters aren't even off the production line yet,” Connolly said, wondering just how Smith had swung this one.

“The best time to try them out, right when they still have the brand-new ship smell. What have you been up to since you got here?”

“Training and building. I could take apart a Corvette with my eyes closed and use my mecha without moving a single muscle. I'm a fully trained Commando now,” Connolly said, not without some pride.

“I wanted to talk about some business,” Smith said, his smile faltering as he saw that Connolly knew what he meant. He nodded to a work room. They went inside, Connolly checking the door before Smith started talking.

“I'm not going to do it,” Smith said, there was no smile on his face anymore, and Connolly could tell that Smith was being serious, a rare and strange occurrence.

“Why?” Connolly asked, although he understood the sentiment. He didn't know if he could do what the United States told him to do anymore. He had bonded with these people and seen the true scope of the things they were doing.

They weren't trying to be a military or impose themselves on Earth. They had too much going on to care about that. They were building a collection of space faring planets. They were creating a new Union, one based on giving people opportunities.

“Say the United States takes over the Free Fleet. Then we have an entity that has done nothing but wage war on other people, dictate terms for how people should operate in other communities and used their military like a baseball bat on a piñata. Don't get me wrong. This isn’t just about the United States. I don’t think any nation should have the power of the Free Fleet. There is too much history, too much single-mindedness. The Free Fleet would turn into a symbol of power, not one of possibilities for people to get another chance at life,” Smith said.

Connolly was slightly surprised, but impressed.

“I understand,” Connolly said, seeing Smith tense up. “I agree,”

“Sir?” Smith asked. He was clearly not expecting that reply.

“I'm not going to turn on my people here just so some politician can corrupt it,” he was grinning as Smith seemed to deflate, clearly relieved.

“Well that's good to know!” Smith's infectious grin was back.

“Now, where's the best place to find something flammable in this place,” Smith said.

“Haven't changed at all have you?” Connolly returned as they exited the work room.