Gray Panthers Captain Short Blade (27 page)

House of Short Blade, planet Glory

4 May 2129

Short Blade was up early, surprised that he didn’t have any pre-mission jitters. The weather was cool and beautiful as he watched the clouds float by overhead. After a moment of thought he walked over to the barn. The Libra inside were still skittish around him, but their appointed leader came out to greet him.

“Good morning, Your Excellency. What can we do for you today?” The remaining Libras shrank into the corner as their spokesman began to tremble slightly.

“I stopped by to get some milk to take with me for the mission.”

One of the Libra broke from the group and ran into the refrigeration unit, returning with three pints.

“Will this be enough, Your Excellency? Two warriors have already taken three gallons.”

I should have expected that. I wonder how much alcohol Guns and Jimmy decided to bring?
Short Blade thought as he stuck the containers in his vest pockets so they wouldn’t be seen when he entered the ship.

“Yes, that will do. I hope you all have a good day.”
I should check with Namid to find out why these guys are so nervous.

Short Blade made it a point to enjoy the walk to the ship, knowing it might be a month or so before he breathed in fresh air again. The eight warriors had already boarded, electing to use their field gear and camp out in a cargo bay instead of using the cabins. Everyone was already aboard except Poland. Short Blade started to comm him but then noticed he was fighting with Namid near the entrance hatch. Deciding to intervene, Short Blade took a deep breath and headed their way, debating what he was going to say when he got there.

“Namid,” he started, “please don’t be mad at John. It was my decision. He had no influence. In ten minutes we’ll be launching, and there’s a good chance we won’t return. I want you both to decide how you want to spend what could be your last moments together—fighting, or as mates?” Then he turned around and walked back to the ship, not wanting to hear any rebuttals from either of the silly humans.

Several minutes later Poland entered the flight deck and slammed himself down at the pilot’s station. His eyes were narrowed and he looked like he was ready to jump from pent-up energy.

“Captain, all external hatches are secured,” Jimmy announced from the engineering station.

“Beater, you may do the honors of launching us today while we monitor,” Short Blade instructed. “Guns, you may contact the Vengeance and let them know we’re launching.”

On board the Vengeance, Thrust was eager to get the mission underway. He was confident that his crew and updated ship were prepared for whatever might happen.

“Superior Captain Thrust, we’ve received a message from the Beater. They are launching and will jump for the center of the Jangwa system to start the search for the Dixie ships,” Vengeance reported. Thrust looked up at the flight deck’s chronometer.
They’re a couple minutes early,
he thought.
I wonder what other variations to the plan they’ll make on a whim. I hate civilians.

“Acknowledge the message. When they break orbit to jump, we’ll follow a minute later. I wonder what they’ll consider the center of the Jangwa system?”

“Sir, the Beater’s AI is similar to me. I would anticipate what would be assumed the center of the system and drop short five thousand miles as a safety precaution.”

“It must be nice to afford a ship like the Beater. You don’t hear about private individuals with AIs on their ships. What do we know about the Beater?”

“Sir, the Beater was initially a high-speed cargo ship that was impounded by the Libra for smuggling. The Libra navy used it as a high-speed cargo ship, and for delivering diplomatic parcels. It was then captured by the Gray Panthers and used as a raider, launching fighters to harass the Libra shipping lanes. At the end of the war it was declared destroyed. The crew was able to abandon ship and return to Glory. Not long ago, Short Blade returned to Glory with it.”

“The government should have confiscated it from him,” Thrust said as much to himself as to the crew.

“Sir, the Beater was in orbit for less than a minute and then was able to jump. Would you like me to jump now? We’re clear of traffic.”

“Go ahead and jump. What will our jump duration be, Vengeance?”

“Superior Captain, we’ll arrive just short of the center of the Jangwa system in ten hours,” Vengeance answered.

“That’s a lot of time for the crew to just sit. Send a message to all crew that they are to be familiar with the system before we get there.”
I should do a few battle drills, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything since the crew is already so well trained,
Thrust thought.

The Beater, in the Jangwa system

5 May 2129

Short Blade studied the initial results of the scans and tried to remember if he’d ever seen such an empty system before.

“When the Vengeance catches up with us—provided they don’t get lost—I’ll suggest that we split up our search of the system,” he advised the crew. “Until then I want to stay put so they don’t accidentally drop on us when they come out of FTL. Launch all six of our sensor drones. Their tracks should be evenly split from one hundred eighty degrees to three hundred sixty degrees.”

“Captain, the Vengeance has already dropped out of FTL. It’s at heading one eighty, distance nine thousand miles,” Beater announced.

“Well, at least they didn’t drop on top of us. Beater, let them know we’ve launched our sensors and ask them to do the same for the remaining headings. I have a feeling this is going to be a very boring search.”

When Vengeance received the message, the AI informed Thrust. “Superior Captain, we dropped approximately nine thousand miles from the Beater. The ship’s captain has requested that we begin launching our sensor drones opposite the locations his crew is searching.”

“Vengeance, let the Beater know that we will comply with their suggestion, since they’ve already started, but tell them we would like to contribute to any future plans that include our ship. Why do you think your estimate of dropping five thousand miles from them was off by four thousand miles?”

“I am guessing that most likely when the Beater’s AI requested to drop to normal space, the captain did not reply immediately.”

Harve spit out the water he was drinking and tried not to choke. Other crewmembers tried not to get caught laughing. Thrust looked at his crew and tried to contain his own laughter, without success.

“Enjoy the laugh,” he told them. “I suspect we’re soon going to be bored to tears.”

Daniels World

6 May 2129

Dan woke with a start, the sheets around him damp with sweat. The dream had seemed so real. The Beater and the Vengeance had discovered the pirates’ base, along with all the missing Libra warships. The pirates quickly overwhelmed both ships and spaced all of the survivors.

“Dan, are you all right?” Juanita mumbled, half asleep. Dan looked at his wife in the soft light and wondered how many wives were going to lose their husbands if he didn’t act at once.

“Grub, contact Gray Panthers HQ and tell them to immediately mobilize and deploy the Bia and the Nike, full crew and combat-ready. If only one is ready, then send them piecemeal—but send them ASAP. Dammit. Change one. Have HQ mobilize the entire fleet. There’s a very real possibility that Earth could be attacked at any time. The Libra are not out of the game. There’s possibly a thousand ships unaccounted for, and they’re first-line ships, not the stuff we fought. Send all the information we have on those ships to the president of Dixie and let him know we’re going back to full war-time readiness.”
God, I hope I’m wrong and sending everyone out on a fool’s errand.

Peary Crater Lunar Base

7 May 2129

Abdul “Abby” Bahadur was not a very happy man. He’d actually enjoyed his retirement, the few months that it lasted. During the Libra War he’d been second in command, primarily in charge of logistics and administration. When the Gray Panthers were deactivated, it was agreed that the AI Hercules would run everything on Earth and on the lunar base.

Recalling everyone to active duty wasn’t as hard as he’d expected, but the troops had to see a human commander, not an AI. Ironically, Hercules was doing almost of the work. Abby was merely signing off on it.

“Abby, you got a moment?”

Abby recognized Admiral Bad’s voice immediately. “Yes, Admiral. What can I do for you?”

“Is it true that a thousand enemy ships are still out there? If so, why the hell are we throwing away our top two ships?”

“Admiral, you know what I know. The Bia and the Nike will be going out under Erickson’s command. Their mission is to find the Beater and a Fire fleet cruiser that’s working with the Beater, and extricate them before they suck vacuum.”

“I thought the Beater was lost during the war?” Bad asked, confused.

“It was. The little Jacka, Short Blade, went on a personal mission to recover Captain Johnson’s body. He was able to salvage the Beater in the process.”

“It’s still not a good trade, risking two major warships for one little raider.”

“Admiral Bad, we aren’t trading two capital ships for a dinghy. We’re trying to save three men and Short Blade, who accepted this mission at Dan’s request. We aren’t going to let them die just because there might be some risk involved in saving them.”

“Okay, Abby. I’ll see that both ships are mission-ready as soon as possible.”
I never lost the faith, and I’m not about to start now,
Bad told himself.
If those men are out there, we’ll bring them home.

Red Erickson’s crew was avoiding him to the best of their abilities. He was a dynamo from hell, issuing orders and making his presence felt everywhere at once. Munitions and supplies couldn’t be loaded fast enough to please him. He glowered at the fact that the rest of the crew hadn’t shown up yet.

“Nike, this is Bia. What’s your status?” Erickson asked as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Ship is mission-ready. We’re still short six percent of our crew,” Commander Mary Adams reported.

“Commander Adams, you’ve read the mission orders and are up to speed, correct?” Erickson asked, trying to keep his demeanor professional.

“Yes, Commander, I have.”

“Based on the information you’ve just given me, you’re ready to be on your way. If you don’t think you can operate your ship with ninety-four percent of its crew, then you can resign your command of the Nike right now, and your operations officer will be promoted to take command.”

“Sir, as a senior officer, I refuse—”

“I don’t give a good god damn, Adams. You either launch in the next three hours, or your ops officer will. And if you think you can go over my head to Admiral Bad, things will only get worse for you. Now what will it be?”

“The Nike will be departing in two hours, Commander Erickson.”

“Thank you, Commander. I’ll be right behind you, as soon as possible. I’ll pick up any of your stragglers I find and bring them with me.”

“Commander Adams, out.”

A short time later, Erickson received the report he’d been waiting for.

“Captain Erickson, the last of the Abby Artillery has been attached to the hull and all systems are green. We have ninety-nine percent crew and ten crewmembers from the Nike on board.”

“Thank you, Bia. Make all safety announcements, and launch in twenty minutes.”

The Beater, in the Jangwa system

8 May 2129

“Would someone do me a favor and open a damn window? I’m so damn bored I’ll suit up and repaint the hull while we’re just hanging out,” Jimmy said.

Guns glanced over at him and shook his head in agreement. Neither could bear to sit through yet another video or read a book if they didn’t have to.

“Jimmy, it’s only been three days. What are you going to do by the time we’ve been here six months?” Short Blade asked without looking up from his display.

“Did he—did he just say
six months
?” Jimmy’s voice cracked and his face lost all color.

“Jimmy, you can do that standing on your head,” Guns assured him.

“No siree, Bob. You may have spent months at sea back in the Navy, but I was Army. I need fresh air and ground under my feet. I survived working on the Beater during the war ’cause we were always busy.”

“Chief Brewster, I’m pulling your leg,” Short Blade said, a sly grin on his face.

Jimmy looked at him and let out a nervous little laugh.

“We’ll stay here another day, and then we’ll go check out another system for a few days. If we come up empty, we’ll head back to the ranch.”

A similar situation was unfolding on the Vengeance.

“Superior Captain Thrust, we’ve had another incident of fighting. The crew’s restless, and most of them lack the imagination to keep themselves entertained,” Chief Edge reported.

“This is to be expected. The ship is manned as a regular cruiser instead of an automated cruiser. There’s not enough work for idle paws. When we return, we’ll downsize the ship’s crew accordingly. For now, I want every department to do its best at collecting bugs. The department that finds the most will get a special prize.”

Harve listened to the conversation and did his best not to laugh. He knew the ship was as free of bugs as it had ever been, but it would be interesting to see what happened.

“MO Harve, it looks like engineering will be a little less boring. One of the sensor drones stopped working. We’ll need to send a recovery team to get it back.”

The prospect of having something to do was like a jolt of adrenaline. “Yes, sir. I’ll lead a team out in an hour,” Harve replied.

“Remember, MO Harve, officers lead. They don’t perform physical work except under special circumstances.”

Thrust’s words took the wind out of Harve’s sails, but only temporarily.

“Yes, sir. I’ll lead the team and avoid physical labor, unless special circumstances arise.”
If the team hasn’t done something like this before, someone will have to show them how. That’s training, not labor, right?
The thought put a smile on Harve’s face as he left the flight deck.

The two engineers were noticeably nervous about going outside the ship to recover the drone. After checking his spacesuit, the pilot set about cleaning up any clutter from his shuttle— when the hatch was opened and the shuttle decompressed, anything not tied down would be gone. Finally, he declared the shuttle ready to board. The crew chief made sure everyone was wearing their restraints before he closed the hatch and quickly sat down, and the pilot took off at once.

The shuttle had no portholes or any other way for the passengers to see out, and the back of the shuttle only seemed to get smaller the longer they were inside. At last, the pilot ordered all helmets secured. The crew chief checked each passenger before allowing the hatch to be opened.

“Remember, guys,” he told them, “just strap the drone to the shuttle’s right skid. Be sure that when the shuttle returns to the bay, gravity doesn’t pull the drone under the skid. I don’t want to die today.”

The crew chief opened the hatch and a small vortex of loose papers, uneaten food, and other flotsam disappeared through the hatchway into space.

“You, come here,” the crew chief said, pointing to Slash. He snapped a lifeline onto the engineer and allowed him to leave the shuttle, then repeated the process for the other one. The two engineers went about the business of bringing the drone alongside the shuttle and securing it firmly to the top of the shuttle’s right skid.

“Looks like I’m going to make the pilot a happy man today,” Slash said as he grabbed a boot floating near his head. “Guess he didn’t secure everything as well as he should have.”

Tucking the boot under his arm, he returned to the shuttle with his partner and tossed the boot inside before entering. The crew chief closed the hatch and everyone waited for the signal to remove their helmets. A few minutes later the order was given. Everyone was happy to have the job done and be on the way back.

“Hey, Chief. Here’s a little present. Guess you missed it when you opened the hatch,” Slash said as he tossed the boot into the crew chief’s lap. He was puzzled when the chief pushed the boot off his lap and jumped away from it as if it were a snake. The others in the shuttle laughed at the spectacle.

“You stupid bastard! There’s a damn foot in that boot!” the crew chief snarled.

Harve ignored the ensuing argument between the two as he picked up the boot to examine it. It was too small to have been used by a Jacka, and there was no fur on the foot inside. It looked like it was a human foot.

“Pilot, call the ship and let them know we found part of a human,” Harve said. “Looks like the Dixie ships made it this far. Send the message in the clear so the other ship can get the information as well.”
Maybe now we can move on to where I think the pirate base is.

Beater retrieved the incoming message and notified Short Blade without delay. “Captain, a shuttle from the Vengeance has recovered a boot with a human foot in it. No other debris found.”

Hmm,
Short Blade thought,
that means there was no major damage. Perhaps they blew a hole in the side of a ship to board, and that was just one unlucky human. Let’s see, it’s nineteen hundred hours now, and the Tupu system is two hours away by FTL. If we jump to the edge of that system at zero two hundred, only night crews should be on duty. No bigwigs. Then we can begin our search with passive scans, in order to avoid announcing our arrival.

“Captain to crew. At twenty-four hundred hours we’ll be jumping to the Tupu system to continue our search. We’ll go in quietly, initially using only passive scanners, though we’ll be at full alert in case we drop in the center of the pirates. Be sure to get some rest before then.”

“Vengeance, this is the Beater, Captain Short Blade commanding.”

“Go ahead. Captain Short Blade. This is Superior Captain Thrust.”

“I wanted to let you know that we are planning to jump to the Tupu system at twenty-four hundred hours. To avoid announcing our presence, initially we’ll use only passive scanners to search for the missing ships. We invite you to come with us if you want.”

“I’m guessing that you are trying to use the element of surprise as an advantage to attack the pirates if they are there. Is that your plan, Captain Short Blade?” Thrust tried to keep his displeasure from being obvious to the wannabe warrior.

“No, Superior Captain Thrust. I’m hoping to find a tired crew that will be slow to respond, or a night crew that won’t be as proficient as the day crew. Either will give me the extra time I need to show them my tail as I turn and run as quickly as possible. I spent the war behind enemy lines in this very ship. I’m not an amateur. We can run, report what we find, and then come back with the numbers to fight.”

“We accept your invitation, Captain. We’ll accompany you at twenty-four hundred hours.”