Scout Force (8 page)

      
“Roger, sir.
 
Just getting the feel of her first.”
 
Kelly hoped he’d covered up his screw-up.
 
He toggled on his controls and the simulation started.
 
He found himself looking out at a generic planet that they were obviously orbiting.

      
“Okay, Kelly, let’s move out of the solar system.
 
Navigation information is appearing on your screen.”

      
Kelly accepted the course plotting on his display and moved the Vigilant out of orbit and into open space.
 
He verified the plotted course wasn’t passing near any of the planets or major objects in the system and gradually increased his speed.

      
“Kelly, hold up on making the jump until we pass the last of the orbital planes.”

      
At the touch of a button, the orbital plane of the system’s planets appeared in his display.
 
He was a minute away from clearing the last orbital plane.
 
He took that time to study the console more closely.
 
He had full engine controls, weapons control over the stationary plasma cannons, and the ability to overlay maps or sensor data over his display.
 
He also had partial control over the navigation shields.
 
He could increase the forward shield intensity, but complete shielding was controlled on another console.
 
He focused back on his job and watched as he crossed out of the system.

      
“Exec, new course data is coming to you.
 
Let’s turn onto the new course and jump to FTL.”

      
Kelly did a quick check on the new course, accepted the course change, and throttled up to light speed.
 
The sensation in the simulator was almost exactly as it was in reality.

      
The simulation was very good.
 
The floor conveyed a faint vibration as would be felt in flight.
 
The view out the front screen made that peculiar shift and blurring brought on by moving at light speed and higher.
 
It had the unpleasant effect of making some people queasy.
 
Kelly never had that problem.

      
“How does it feel?”

      
“It feels great, Captain.
 
I don’t have any experience with this ship, but it feels like my past experiences on other ships, right down to the slight vibration through the floor.
 
How does this feel compared to the real thing?
 
How fast will she fly?”

      
“Its pretty realistic, but the mass feels slightly heavier than the Vigilant.
 
Of course, some of this could be based on differences from the refit.
 
Top speed will be near power 6 light speed.”

      
“Okay, now take a little time to get the feel of the ship.
 
Engage in free flight.
 
See how she handles.”

      
Kelly took the control yoke and put the simulator through its paces.
 
He dropped to sub-light speed and ran through a number of drills from his fighter flight training.
 
The mass of the Vigilant wouldn’t match the maneuverability of an F-53, but it was remarkably responsive.
 
He toggled on the stress indicators on his display.
 
He stayed well within tolerances.
 
He kept pushing the envelope to see if there were any maneuvers that caused more stress on the ship than others.
 
It was important to know the structural limitations of a ship.
 
He dove, climbed, rolled, yawed, and looped the ship.
 
He knew he was in a simulator, but it was amazing how real it felt.
 
He was just about to try some maneuver thruster drills when a proximity alarm went off.
 
Kelly looked at his display and saw an asteroid in their path.
 
He had three options:
 
change course, increase shields, or blast it out of their way.
 
Kelly, still a fighter pilot at heart, toggled on weapons and blasted the asteroid to small bits that were easily repelled by their navigation shields.

      
LCDR Timmons chuckled, “Chief Blankenship owes me a beer.
 
She was sure you would try to jockey us around the asteroid.
 
I said you’d blast it.”

      
“I guess I’ll have to work on being more unpredictable, sir.”

      
“Just don’t forget you almost always have more options.
 
In this business we may not be able to blast our way out of situations.
 
Sometimes we need to employ a little finesse.”

 
      
“Time to head for the barn.
 
Chief B, that’s all we have time for now.”

      
The lights came up, the outside view and Kelly’s display went blank.
 
He felt the simulator lower and lock itself into the steps.
 
Chief Blankenship opened the door to let them out.
 
Kelly followed LCDR Timmons out and down the stairs, thanking Chief Blankenship as he passed out the hatch.

      
Kelly and Timmons power walked back to their offices.
 
They passed several bemused officers and enlisted.
 
Kelly was determined not to break into a trot.
 
When they got back to the building Kelly had significant shin splints, but he had kept up.
 
He wasn’t about to limp or complain in front of the captain.

      
The two went into their respective offices and collapsed in their chairs, rubbing their sore legs.
 
Each was convinced he had achieved a victory over the other.
 
Chief Watson and the yeoman, who had watched them come in, smiled and chuckled quietly.

Chapter Four

      
On the K’Rang home world of G’Durin, Shadow Leader M’Trang conferred with his superiors.
 
He stood at attention, resplendent in his maroon cape and glistening fur.

      
“Excellencies,” he began, “our agents in the human space have made contact with people so without honor that they will sell us any information we desire.
 
They will condemn their own kind for some useless shiny rocks.
 
They assure us they have access to anything we need.”

      
“We will be starting slowly with this source to test its veracity and ability to get us the information we need.
 
We will carefully ask for information we already know and information we have no interest in to ensure we are not being lied to or that will give away our intentions.”

      
The High Nobles appeared to be concentrating on something before them just out of M’Trang’s eyesight as they sat behind the high bench.
 
They seemed almost disinterested in his report.
 
He was about to continue with his briefing when the Senior Elder looked up.

      
“Shadow Leader,” spoke the senior Elder in a gravelly, rheumy voice, “we do appreciate your efforts.
 
It won’t be long before you will have a permanent home here on G’Durin.
 
You should develop this source slowly.
 
Make sure they are providing us valuable and correct information.
 
Use information from our other sources to verify what they provide us.
 
We have plans for the humans and this source can be very helpful in carrying them out.
 
If at anytime you feel they are engaging in treachery, let them feel the power of your fang and claw.”

      
Sensing he had been dismissed, he said, “As you command, Excellency.
 
They do not realize it, but they exist now only to serve the K’Rang Empire.”

      
He saluted, bowed, and backed out of their presence.
 
Upon leaving the audience chamber and passing by the Imperial Guards at the entrance, he joined his two Shadow Warrior aides.
 
They passed over his weapons, which were forbidden in the presence of the High Nobles.

      
He spoke to them as they left the Imperial Palace and he restored his weapons to their storage places in his cloak and uniform.
 
“I have the authority to proceed.
 
Put my plan into effect.
 
Let us wring these humans dry.”

      
He thought back to the comment by the Elder about having a permanent home here on the home world.
 
His heart swelled and his pace picked up at the possibility that he could have meant he might earn a title and entrance into the nobility.
 
He paused in his stride as he also recalled that the main military cemetery was on G’Durin.
 
M’Trang realized that the Elder’s comment was double-edged.
 
The reward for success was obvious, as was the price of failure.
 

* * * * *

      
Kelly didn’t think he would get used to these eight-day weeks.
 
It just seemed wrong.
 
He had no problem with working six days instead of five as on Earth.
 
On the Bolivar, there was no weekend.
 
One just worked all the time.
 
You were either on duty or not.
 
Here on Armstrong, the eight-day week just threw him off.
 
He was glad he would be leaving on patrol in a few weeks.

      
It was Saturday.
 
He had spent the morning running through simulations with the bridge crew.
 
They ran each watch in turn through the simulations, but he and the captain spent all morning in the simulator.
 
Kelly was bushed.
 
He had the reception with Admiral Craddock that night and he couldn’t ditch that.
 
He hoped it wouldn’t be too boring.
 
Even more so, he hoped
he
wouldn’t be too boring.

      
LCDR Timmons released the crew at noon.
 
Kelly finished his paperwork and headed for his quarters to clean up and ready his mess dress uniform.
 
He walked out of the building and went to the shuttle vehicle lot.
 
The base had several lots with small six-person autonomous vehicles that were available for anyone needing transportation.
 
As he came around the building he saw the lot and, fortunately, there was a shuttle waiting.

      
He approached the shuttle and was about to climb in when a voice shouted out, “What do you think you are doing, Ensign?”

      
Kelly turned and saw a Fleet Lieutenant walking his way.
 
Kelly saluted and said, “I was going to take this shuttle to my quarters, sir.”

      
“No, you aren’t, Ensign.
 
I’m using that shuttle.
 
In just a few minutes I’ll be leaving in that shuttle.”

      
Kelly saw the LT’s name was Casimirski.
 
He replied, “Sir, if there is no shuttle here, the central motor pool will send another.
 
It should be here before you need it.”

      
“Maybe you didn’t understand me, Ensign.
 
I said I’m taking that shuttle.
 
If you need one, you can wait for it.
 
I don’t intend to.
 
Now run along.”

      
Kelly saluted again and walked away, thinking to himself that LT Casimirski was a first class asshole.
 
He walked to the next closest lot, found another shuttle, and took it to his quarters.
 
As he passed by the previous shuttle lot, the shuttle was still there waiting for LT Casimirski.

      
Kelly got to his quarters without further incident.
 
He showered, shaved, and wrapped a towel around his waist.
 
He took a few minutes to check his messages.
 
There was nothing of any real interest in his queue.
 
Kelly set an alarm and crashed for a couple of hours.
 
Before he drifted off to sleep, he reminisced about his first day on the Bolivar.

* * * * *

      
The wardroom of the Galactic Republic Ship Simon Bolivar was a raucous place.
 
It was filled with off duty officers from all over the ship.
 
Considering that pilots were off duty anytime they weren’t flying or preparing to fly, it was mostly full of green flying suits.
 
Most were congregated in one corner of the wardroom.

      
Kelly, the newest member of the 68th Fighter Squadron, was being initiated into the Fighting 68th.
 
He stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by his new squadron mates, wearing a fuzzy red top hat.
 
It had been described as the ancient ceremonial hat worn by all supplicants at the altar of the 68th.
 
The Squadron Executive Officer, Major Aaron Brown, had the floor and was acting as master of ceremonies.