Riss Series 3: The Riss Survival (19 page)

"What now? Wattson?" Plimson asked, implicitly turning the discussion over to him.

Image of a Riss shaking hands with an octopus.

"Sir, you could send the Mnemosyne. Thalia seems to think it might be fun," I said, reluctantly.

"Thalia?" Vaneck asked.

"Her Riss," Zann said. Being a Riss-human, she had the same concerns as me, but wouldn't question me as the Riss had named me Leader.

"I thought you said they didn't like killing?" Vaneck asked.

"They hate killing. No Riss has ever killed another Riss in the last thousand years. They kill only as a last resort to defend themselves, and to support the SAS defend itself. She thinks it would be fun to meet Aliens. Of course, I named her Thalia, the goddess of humor, because she thinks everything is fun."

"Yes, I like that idea. The Mnemosyne is probably our best ship with its stealth capability and new missiles, and Alien meeting Alien may prove beneficial," Wattson said.

"Sir," Pavao said. "Our missile conversion is almost complete. Reese could be positioned near the exit point from the Wave, and I could stay closer to the planet as backup."

"Who would command the task force," Wattson asked. I wasn't sure what he was after. He knew Pavao outranked me.

"Independent command per the MSA. Her as Riss, making the initial contact, and me as SAS backup."

The conversations went on through the early morning hours, but they mostly concerned logistics, timing, contingencies, etc. Admiral Wattson would remain on site as the senior station officer, of course his real function would be to make decisions based on what happened at Kamboja. Plimson and the rest of the staff would return to Eden.

* * *

I spent the next week alternating between the Mnemosyne, Bobcat, and Freeland. On the Bobcat, I worked with Pavao checking the modification to its missile delivery system to ensure it was operational. On Freeland, I coordinated with Da'Maass to ensure they produced sufficient missiles for both cruisers. He managed to get the factory working day and night. And on the Mnemosyne, I coordinated with the section chiefs to ensure each was operationally ready. Admiral Wattson followed me everywhere I went, along with my two guards.

"You're making me old before my time, Reese. How do you do it?"

"It's a drug call Thalia. She is capable of controlling my neurological system and producing the chemicals I need. In this case, to keep me alert and rested. Of course, it has a price and I'll pay later."

"You have a very unorthodox way of command. Is that by design?"

"It's called inexperience," I quipped. He laughed long and hard.

"We rely on experience to produce the best officers. And those we send to the War College to learn how to respond in a battle, yet based on your record, you've done well without both."

"It's called luck," I said. He didn't laugh this time.

"No one would discount luck, but I doubt that explains it all."

"You're right. The Riss is definitely a factor."

* * *

Eight days later, Wattson invited Pavao, Corbitt, Gabisi, Alena, and me to dinner on the Golden Eagle. To my surprise, he had also invited Da'Maass and Ni'Shay.

"Tomorrow Captains Pavao and Reese leave for Kamboja and an unknown future. I wish I could go along, but I can't. However, I'll expect a critique when you get back." He smiled. "We owe Da'Maass and Elder Ni'Shay for their efforts. We would not have been as well prepared without them and the people of Freeland. Based on what I've seen, I sincerely hope Freeland becomes a SAS depot and repair facility—as no doubt your dybbuk intended from the beginning," Wattson said as we sat around the dinner table.

"Yes, she forced us to consider our future. We had been focused on being prisoners," Ni'Shay said, while examining the glass in his hand. "She is truly our dybbuk—our destruction and our rebirth,

like the Phoenix."

"I understand." He turned towards Corbitt. "Although I will officially be the senior station officer on Freeland, I expect you, Captain Corbitt, to be responsible for incoming and outgoing security, and Captain Alena to be responsible for the activities on Freeland. Any questions?"

There were none. For the rest of the evening there was no talk about the mission, and the discussion turned to life on Freeland and the Riss. I decided I liked Wattson and got a glimpse into his brilliant mind.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Alien scout at Kamboja

"Well, Nadya, what do you suggest," Pavao asked over a tight-beam connection, as we approached the entrance to the Wave.

"Let me go in first, you follow thirty minutes later. The Mnemosyne is far stealthier than the Bobcat, and it will give me time to assess the situation before you arrive."

"Good luck. See you at Kamboja."

The trip took three days but felt like a month, as my imagination ran wild. I visited each section at least once. Everyone seemed to be having the same feelings, except Thalia.

An evil grin.

We slipped into Fools Landing with four engines at half power, the minimum power necessary to leave the Wave, and all detection systems passive.

Jaelle sent, although unnecessary as I could hear the responses from each station as she checked with them and could see the monitors overhead. I had appointed Jaelle as the XO, mostly redundant in a Riss ship as everyone was equal and, therefore, anyone could stand Watch or assume another position. But, she needed the experience of command. I felt strongly that while the Riss were competent—more than competent—they didn't have that same reflexive aggressiveness of humans that would be required in battle. Riss-humans were, after all, still human. That presented a potential problem over time.

Laughter, making it impossible to take it personal. All joking aside, it was a good answer. I had the position of Leader whether I wanted it or not, therefore, it was my responsibility—like it or not.

Image of an old fashioned bi-plane rolling and jerking around and almost colliding with buildings and trees while trying to land.

By the time the Bobcat exited the wave, we still hadn't detected anything suspicious. One merchant ship had entered the space but no one had been tailing it. But what was suspicious? We didn't really know what the enemy looked like or what kind of technology they had—or whether it really was an invasion. I had a raging headache.

I would be heard by everyone on the Bridge but be acted upon by r-Galene who was currently at the Comm position.

<
Bobcat
acknowledges. Proceeding to take up position closer to Fools Landing as agreed.>

Jaelle sent, somewhat nervously. She had been co-XO under Pavao for several months, which of course was precious little experience. Hopefully, she would grow into the position in time to assume command of the Minerva. But who would be her XO and who would be mine? Elissa was already training under Alena. Petar might be all right, with training, but I doubted Damion would ever be suitable for command. And a fourth Riss cruiser would eventually—within two years or less—be commissioned. My raging headache doubled, until Thalia took pity on me, and it began to ease.

I felt her grin.

I made my way down the extra-large steps, which turned out to be an advantage when a person, human or Riss, was in a hurry, and I turned in the direction of the Sharks area. There were five in each bay. I had received a replacement from the Golden Eagle for the one in R&D. When I reached Byer's office, the door was open. He began to rise until I waved for him to remain seated.

"Good morning, Commander, how do you like your new area?"

"Good morning, Captain … or should it be leader?"

"Commander, life is complicated enough without changing the rules. Consider me an SAS officer and all the normal rules and traditions apply."

"I can't really complain since I helped design them." He grinned. "They are more than adequate. Come with me. Knowing you, you'll want to visit with the men and women, and I like the idea of them getting to know you." He rose and I followed him out the office and into the Bay designated S2. I spend an enjoyable several hours talking with the pilots and mechanics, which I have an affinity, having been the Shuttle Maintenance officer on the Peregrine. We spent time discussing the current mission and the new features of the Sharks, which were an upgrade to the older Strikers the Light cruisers currently carried.

Afterward, I made my way down to the Scorpions area. There I found Seng and Terril watching several troops firing at moving targets, with electronic guns—their equivalent of the tactical simulators for the Weapons and ECM officers.

"Captain Reese, welcome to the new and improved Scorpion area." He straightened only slightly, as he was used to me being in his area. Terril smiled.

"Are you bored, Captain? I could arrange some excitement."

"I'm saving myself for the Aliens. I hope but doubt they are the bring-home-to-mother types."

"Gunny's bored, Captain. She's having trouble finding fault with the fifty she picked for the Mnemosyne. Probably because they are the best of the best Scorpions."

"Normally, I'd like to avoid a battle, but in this case I'd like to see our adversary. I have a feeling this is a foreign navy, not forty or fifty ships."

"Cheery thought. That maybe more excitement than even Scorpions want. But I guess that's the price of sailing with the notorious Captain Reese." Terril snorted.

"And you volunteered."

"I understand the troops are allowed on level three. Are there any restrictions?"

"No, Colonel Seng, other than the ones you impose." Seng walked me around the area, stopping to talk with the Scorpions. Like the Shark personnel, everyone seems happy to be on the Mnemosyne, and I had the feeling they felt a sense of pride at being the first. I decided I should visit the medical unit. I had nothing else to do, and it took my mind off the upcoming confrontation.

Doctor Dayton looked up from the Regen unit she was examining with a young nurse, when she saw me standing in the entrance. "Captain, I've been expecting you to visit our facility. You've a reputation as a very involved person," Dayton said as she stuck out her hand. "How's your fun loving Thalia doing?"

"Still the same. She finds everything amusing, even when we're tied up in a shuttle rocketing into space with no emergency beacon or functioning engine for someone to locate us."

"I'll bet that's an interesting story. Would you like a tour of our facilities?"

"Yes, and you'll need to work with the Riss to determine which equipment is safe to use on them and which may not."

"I understand from Doctor Echart that you seriously restricted the drugs and equipment he could use to treat you. Will that be true for the Riss?"

"I doubt it, but that is your area of expertise. The restrictions on me are because Thalia is attached to my nervous system. She can, therefore, control many of my functions and facilitate my recovery. Some drugs would preclude her helping me. As for your medical equipment, we believe some would permanently detach her from me. Mentally, that would kill me." The naked truth.

Dayton stood there appraising me for a long time. She was a tall woman with a long thin face and penetrating blue eyes. We had first met at Hephaestus when I had asked if she could make a tattoo like my
Rh
and remove it. She had assumed I had meant on my face, whereas, I had meant it for the students of Commander Weller's People Dynamics class to demonstrate prejudices against people who are different—like the Riss-humans.

"I can understand that. After we met at Hephaestus, I became fascinated with you and Thalia, and did some research on the Riss. They are remarkable. It's one of the reasons I volunteered for this assignment."

"I’ll make sure you have free access to the Riss for as much time as you need." The facility looked modern and up to date. Plimson had seen to it that we had the latest equipment as we were probably headed for a major battle. "Did you consider the consequence of being on a ship headed for war?"

"I've been there, Nadya. Thalia is a good role model. She isn't afraid of life. Following her lead, this is where I want to be."