say.”
“That’s where we’ll hit them, then. Hell of a lot easier to assault something on the ground than in space.” Bull tried to relax, knowing full well that hurry up and wait was the order of the day. They might launch in five minutes or five hours.
“Sir, we got company.” Butler opened his link to Bull’s HUD and fed him the interior of the sled. A man in unmarked combat armor stood awkwardly in the open loading hatch. Gingerly he stepped inside, and the sled’s copilot/gunner, Flight Sergeant Krebs, unbuckled and then pulled down an evac harness from the wall. This was just a piece of high-impact webbing with a frame around it, for cramming extra personnel or casualties into the sled.
A moment later the unknown new man was webbed in and immobilized.
“Here you go,” Bull heard Butler say, then his HUD lit up with the contact information. “Johnstone? Commander Johnstone?”
Rick chuckled. “The one and only, Bull. I’m sure you’d rather it was Jill here but sorry, I’m all you’ve got. And – is this channel private? Okay…I have to tell you that I’ve been put in political command.”
“Political command? What the hell does that mean? This is a combat mission. There’s only one commander.”
Rick grunted noncommittally. “I guess it means Admiral Absen thinks it’s primarily a first contact mission, not a combat mission. He said I’m in overall command. He also said you have command of everything tactical. Sorry if that steps on your toes.”
“You’re right, sir .” Bull’s voice dripped sarcasm. “I would rather have your wife here. She’s smart enough to respect the concept of unity of command.”
Rick’s tone hardened. “Take it up with the admiral, Major,” he snapped. “Are you the professional everyone says you are, or just a cowboy out for glory?”
Bull gnashed his teeth inside his cocoon, but held his tongue.
***
“We are warriors,” Chirom shouted above the chanting. “We were not made to skulk and hide inside a ship of space. We need a home, with skies above and prey in the fields. If we do not have that, we are no longer Ryss.” He shook his claws above his head. “We must be prepared to fight!”
“Fight against who?” cried Vusk.
“When the time comes, we fight the machines. But we must choose the moment. Soon Desolator will land on the ice moon. I believe it intends to raid an alien facility there, and refuel. Perhaps the creatures will defend themselves. Perhaps their ships will attack. No matter. When Desolator is busiest, we will break in to the armory and seize our weapons.”
“And then what?” Vusk unwittingly fed Chirom his next line.
“And then we retake control of our ship .”
“But how?”
“I know where the Vault of its brain-device is. Perhaps we can break in, when it is distracted.”
“How do you know this?” one young Ryss yelled.
“I am this ship’s Recorder-Historian, and I learned many things in my work, before Desolator murdered Captain Juriss and the senior officers. Your elders already know this.”
A grizzled veteran stepped forward on unsteady feet. “Not all of them do. What do you mean, murdered? They died fighting.”
Chirom spread paws, sheathing his claws once more. “I know you would like to believe that, Bhligg, but I can show you the visual records – and I can show you the undamaged Control Chamber. Desolator turned off the gravity field inside, before engaging the photonic drive. Juriss and the bridge officers died instantly as the rest of the ship accelerated while they did not.”
“You are the bearer of many horrors, Elder Chirom,” Bhligg said. “I wish I had not lived to see this day.” Slowly he slid to a seat.
“I have long been the bearer of horrors inside myself. Today, you Ryss, perhaps all that are free and left of our race, must take up the burden with me. Today, we all must be strong. Today, we must fight.”
“ Today, we must fight ,” echoed the Ryss, as
“That’s where we’ll hit them, then. Hell of a lot easier to assault something on the ground than in space.” Bull tried to relax, knowing full well that hurry up and wait was the order of the day. They might launch in five minutes or five hours.
“Sir, we got company.” Butler opened his link to Bull’s HUD and fed him the interior of the sled. A man in unmarked combat armor stood awkwardly in the open loading hatch. Gingerly he stepped inside, and the sled’s copilot/gunner, Flight Sergeant Krebs, unbuckled and then pulled down an evac harness from the wall. This was just a piece of high-impact webbing with a frame around it, for cramming extra personnel or casualties into the sled.
A moment later the unknown new man was webbed in and immobilized.
“Here you go,” Bull heard Butler say, then his HUD lit up with the contact information. “Johnstone? Commander Johnstone?”
Rick chuckled. “The one and only, Bull. I’m sure you’d rather it was Jill here but sorry, I’m all you’ve got. And – is this channel private? Okay…I have to tell you that I’ve been put in political command.”
“Political command? What the hell does that mean? This is a combat mission. There’s only one commander.”
Rick grunted noncommittally. “I guess it means Admiral Absen thinks it’s primarily a first contact mission, not a combat mission. He said I’m in overall command. He also said you have command of everything tactical. Sorry if that steps on your toes.”
“You’re right, sir .” Bull’s voice dripped sarcasm. “I would rather have your wife here. She’s smart enough to respect the concept of unity of command.”
Rick’s tone hardened. “Take it up with the admiral, Major,” he snapped. “Are you the professional everyone says you are, or just a cowboy out for glory?”
Bull gnashed his teeth inside his cocoon, but held his tongue.
***
“We are warriors,” Chirom shouted above the chanting. “We were not made to skulk and hide inside a ship of space. We need a home, with skies above and prey in the fields. If we do not have that, we are no longer Ryss.” He shook his claws above his head. “We must be prepared to fight!”
“Fight against who?” cried Vusk.
“When the time comes, we fight the machines. But we must choose the moment. Soon Desolator will land on the ice moon. I believe it intends to raid an alien facility there, and refuel. Perhaps the creatures will defend themselves. Perhaps their ships will attack. No matter. When Desolator is busiest, we will break in to the armory and seize our weapons.”
“And then what?” Vusk unwittingly fed Chirom his next line.
“And then we retake control of our ship .”
“But how?”
“I know where the Vault of its brain-device is. Perhaps we can break in, when it is distracted.”
“How do you know this?” one young Ryss yelled.
“I am this ship’s Recorder-Historian, and I learned many things in my work, before Desolator murdered Captain Juriss and the senior officers. Your elders already know this.”
A grizzled veteran stepped forward on unsteady feet. “Not all of them do. What do you mean, murdered? They died fighting.”
Chirom spread paws, sheathing his claws once more. “I know you would like to believe that, Bhligg, but I can show you the visual records – and I can show you the undamaged Control Chamber. Desolator turned off the gravity field inside, before engaging the photonic drive. Juriss and the bridge officers died instantly as the rest of the ship accelerated while they did not.”
“You are the bearer of many horrors, Elder Chirom,” Bhligg said. “I wish I had not lived to see this day.” Slowly he slid to a seat.
“I have long been the bearer of horrors inside myself. Today, you Ryss, perhaps all that are free and left of our race, must take up the burden with me. Today, we all must be strong. Today, we must fight.”
“ Today, we must fight ,” echoed the Ryss, as
Similar Books
