Riss Series 3: The Riss Survival (17 page)

"That’s because he sneaky," Pavao said to general snickers.

"Sneakier than you, Pavao?"

"This time."

"Commander Byer, that was a very decisive win for you and your pilots." The fighter wings also got a crystal trophy of the Wright Brothers’ ancient plane. To date, Byer's fighters had won both tournaments.

"Thank you, Captain. Unfortunately, we won't be able to get away with that maneuver again. A one-time gambit." His smile turned serious. "I'd like to thank you for beginning these competitions. They keep us sharp, generate new ideas and strategies, and everyone enjoys them. It gives them something to look forward to."

"I agree. I've been a on a lot of ships, but I never seen morale so good. Without any shore leave, it should be marginal at best," Seng added. His Scorpions had one the first one, but Pavao's the second. Their trophy was an earth-like commando with an open parachute.

"I'm a little outclassed here, but the folks on the Merlin are as enthusiastic as anyone and plotting daily to get our name on those trophies," Gabisi said.

"And the monthly exercises with the Mnemosyne have been valuable, even if you're sneaker than the rest of us combined. That damn ship is a ghost. But we're learning and it will help against another stealth ship, which all the three empires have even if they aren't on a par with the Mnemosyne."

"Pavao, I have another project I like you to add to your other upgrade projects," I said, watching her eyes narrow. "Maybe we could make Commander Byer project leader, since he'll be interested."

"What are you up to now. You going to redesign the SAS fighters?"

"I'd like to see if we could redesign the outside of a Shark to make it stealthy like the Mnemosyne." That generated a lot of discussion and Pavao agreed Byer would oversee the project reporting to her. Her conversion of the Bobcat's missile system had gone through final design and actual implementation would start next week. The actual missile size had to be adjusted but that would be easy since it didn't affect the electronic. After a short lunch, we left for Freeland.

* * *

 Over the months, the elders and the Captains had relaxed somewhat and the meetings had become more casual. We discussed experimenting with one of the Sharks to general excitement. Successful research and development could develop into another Freeland contract to modify SAS fighters. It was looking good. Based on Plimson's comments, Freeland would be the major installation for modifications to the SAS cruisers and production of the new missiles. And I had convinced the three Captains, we should allow the clans to build a fourth merchant ship. The Treaty didn't say they could, but it didn't say they couldn't. The only restriction was on warships.

"Why should we allow them to build a ship of any kind?" Gabisi had asked, when I suggested it. I didn't need their approval, but I had learned including them avoided the kind of speculation that led to past problems.

"Two reasons. First, they have been cooperative in every way, from intelligence, inspections, and anything we ask them to do. Yes, I know we could force them, but we wouldn't get the same results. Second, making them a productive society means the people are content and gives a tangible reason for everyone to want to please us and to reenter society. Only the remnants of the old military are struggling to adapt, which is a very small part of the population."

In the end, everyone agreed.

Between Pavao's projects, building the Riss cruisers, and a fourth merchant ship, Freeman's factories were providing full employment. We jointly toured the factories and received weekly updates on the current projects. I had talked it over with Byer and decided a permanent detail of Scorpions would guard the Shark to insure the outside of the fighter was worked on and the inside left untouched. Dinner was always late. There we discussed the upcoming monthly exercises, and I received an update from each Captain. Things were going far too smoothly.

Image of me pacing the floor in my cabin, holes in the carpet, and sweat pouring off me.

Image of me dancing through the hallways.

Thalia was right. Today was good and who knew what would happen tomorrow, so why not take advantage of the good times. I decided to take off more to work out with Terril and teach.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Unknown invasion

The Golden Eagle, entered the system right on schedule, and I was notified Admiral Wattson, Butler, and Zann were on board and wanted a meeting with Iglis and me. Not too surprising, since Iglis had just learned last week that Fools Landing appeared to have become another black hole—ships went in but none came out. She was waiting when I arrived at the shuttle.

"You were right, Captain. Whatever it is, it's spreading. I wish Ba'Tasuo had returned, but he isn't due for a week or two. I'd like to know what happened with the JPU task force into Baraz."

"Yes, his information will be vital in determining how to proceed."

"What do you think the Admirals want? Certainly they don't need us to send a task force into Fool's Landing."

"We're about to find out."

When we exited the shuttle, Commander Bradshaw stood waiting. He looked gorgeous, and I almost tripped coming down the steps, then stood frozen not sure what to do.  A whistle sounded, everyone stopped what he or she was doing, and he executed a perfect salute.

"Captain Reese, welcome aboard the Golden Eagle." His beautiful smile sent shivers down my spine. "Admiral Wattson sends his regards. If you're ready, I'll take you to him. Admirals Zann and Butler are with him in his office."

"Yes, Commander, lead on," I said, finally able to break loose of my paralysis, thanks to Thalia. I pulled even with him as we proceeded through the bay into the corridor. "Sean, what are you doing here?"

"Escorting you to Admiral Wattson, Captain Reese."

"You know what I mean?"

"I'm Admiral Wattson's aide-de-camp." He smiled again, and I almost missed a step. "No, nice to see you again, Commander?"

"You clown. When we're alone, I'll show you, that is if you're not otherwise committed." I blushed, realizing Iglis followed immediately behind me. "Iglis, this good looking Commander is an old dear friend, going back to Hephaestus."

"Only to you, Captain Reese… and Thalia." And his magical smile engulfed me. When we entered, the Admirals were already there. Bradshaw gave me a questioning look when Terril and the corporal accompanying me entered. Wattson waved to the sideboard, and I collected myself kaffa. I knew this was going to be a long session. Iglis declined.

Butler cleared his throat. "Commander Iglis, are you aware that ships going to Fool's Landing have disappeared?"

"Yes, sir. I just found out a couple of days ago. It's in the packet I sent you this morning."

"What about the JPU task force to Baraz?"

"No word yet, sir."

"Captain Reese, I assume you are aware of the situation?" He frowned slightly, then relaxed in what I thought might be resignation.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, what do you think is happening?"

Laughter rippled through me.

"Sir, we can rule out all the normal explanations—mercenaries, disease, natural disasters, or a power grab by the local government, JPU, or UFN."

"Why, Captain Reese?" Wattson said, and a slight smile touched his lips as he steepled his hands, fingers touching his lips.

Image of a mummy.

"Because none of those scenarios explain what is happening."

"I agree. What do you think is happening?" Wattson pressed.

Image of Butler with horse blinders on. I sat there silent not sure what I should say or not say. No one prompted me to speak. They seemed willing to wait me out.

"We're being invaded," I blurted in a whisper, surprising myself. I had to assume my mind had been mulling over the situation and finally decided that was the most likely possibility.

"What!" Butler shouted.

Danu, Zann Riss, questioned Thalia, who didn't respond since I didn't know.

"Yes, that is a reasonable conjecture, Reese. We're all too busy trying to force a scenario we understand to fit what is happening. And like you said, they don't fit."

"Who?" Butler said. I don't know if he expected me to know or it was a knee jerk reaction.

"Whoever they are, they've never been here before."

"Why." Butler sputtered.

"Because the planets are in two systems and next to each other, like they are searching for inhabitable planets. But soon they will find the information they need to map the SAS, JPU, and UFN."

Silence followed my remark.

Image of a Gorillai blushing.

"Bradshaw, send an urgent message to Admiral Plimson. We need a face-to-face meeting with his staff. I'd prefer the meeting be on Freeland. Urgent." Wattson said, looking at Sean. "And inform Captain Dannatt we’ll be staying a while. That will give Captain Reese time to come up with a solution." He laughed, then smiled. "In the meantime, Sean, I think I can do without you for a few days."

* * *

Bradshaw sat with me on the way back. We were both quiet, content to be together again. I hadn't seen him for over two years, and I missed him desperately. Although ironically, I could probably get him assigned to Freeland if I tried. But I feared that I couldn't do my job, and the Riss would suffer. They came first.

He sat occasionally looking at me from the corner of his eye as the silence became oppressive.

I sighed.
Enough of that.
"Well, Sean, what have you been doing since Eden," I asked, interested to know everything about him and his life, since I couldn't share it. He had been assigned the Naval Headquarters, at his request, while I was teaching at Hephaestus. It had been a glorious year and a half.

"After you left, I got assigned to the Shirka in charge of Communications, after that ECM officer on the Borea and then Weapons officer on the Buteos during the battle of Freeland. I was wounded and returned to Eden right after the cease fire." He paused when I pointed out the window as we approached the Mnemosyne.

"I didn't believe it, but Admiral Wattson was right—it's ugly." Sean had leaned across me and had his face plastered to the window. I could feel his warmth through the uniform and felt like tearing it off. I might have if we had been alone. The very reason I hadn't attempted to have him reassigned—he would be too much of a distraction. To my disappointment, he straightened up. "I'm due for reassignment and have been promised an XO slot on some cruiser. You don't happen to know someone who needs one?"

 We docked before I could answer. I spent the next hour giving him a quick tour of the Mnemosyne. All he could do was keep muttering unbelievable. Finally, we arrived at my cabin. I pushed him in, Terril snorted, and locked the door. The next thirty-six hours were spent making love, taking short naps, and having an occasional quick meal.

"This has been worth a two year wait, but I need a rest." He laughed. "Why don't you give me a real tour of the Mnemosyne?"

"All right.” I couldn’t help smirking. “But I was just trying to get you ready for the responsibilities of an XO. It takes a man with stamina." I giggled, and it felt good to feel like a young girl again with no responsibilities. When we exited the cabin, Terril and another Scorpion stood outside.

"Terril, I'd like you to meet Commander Bradshaw. Sean this is Gunny Terril, my keeper and friend.”

"Pleased to meet you, Commander."

"I noticed you in the conference room… yesterday. You're apparently allowed to follow the Captain anywhere?"

"Yes, sir. I have a letter from Admiral Plimson authorizing an unspecified number of Scorpions to follow her anywhere, including the Bridge and meetings with Admirals. We are authorized to shoot anyone we think doesn't like her. Obviously, you don't qualify, Commander," Terril said while maintaining a stoic expression.

"Keep her safe, Gunny. She's special," he said and to my surprise gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wished he could stay, but I knew he couldn't.

"We will. Scorpions are good shots."

This time I gave Sean a real tour of the Mnemosyne: the Scorpions and Sharks area, where he was given a personal tour, the recreational area on the third level, and many hours on the Bridge discussing the new missiles and the differences between the Riss and SAS operations.

* * *

I was out of the fresher watching Sean drink his kaffa when Iglis called.