wanted. Before I could get my balls up, Cozen sent me to my quarters to clear my head. I got the hell out. I thought I could do this. I can't. Now, two pilots are going to die and the war will go on because I can't set him up."
Biko said, "You're not protecting Harry Cozen, Ram. You're protecting his lie. And if it got out that this wasn't a war of alien aggression after all, then it would mess humanity up bad enough that we might just lose this war. It can't get out. Period."
"What about peace? What if it's possible?"
"Even if you believe her," Biko said, "the Squidies' terms for peace might not be so great. Besides, this isn't what we agreed on. We said we'd win this war and then deal justice to Cozen ourselves when it's over. And that's what we're going to do. We need him, Ram. When this war is over, you can burn a hole clear through his brain and avenge the dead. But until then, we need him."
Chapter Nine
Dana Sellis sat in the command chair for the trip across Groomsbridge to the Castor Transit. It was worth losing a few hours of sleep to have the chair. Before the war, she'd been the ship's geologist. She picked the rocks thejunks dug. When the war came, Cozen had promoted her to Lt. Commander and the more she sat in that command chair, the more she liked it. Third watch, fourth, dog watch, it didn't matter. If she got to sit in the chair, she'd take the shift. So far, she hadn't screwed it up.
Bergano had the Air Traffic Controller's console on that watch. He called out the contacts when they appeared. "Multiple bogies, 63 million Ks out, bearing 149 flat – right in between us and the transit point."
"Where the hell did they come from? Did they just blink into existence and shine all over our LiDAR?"
"It's a radar return," he said. "And it's gone." The blinking red dots disappeared from the projected display.
"It could have been a natural phenomena of some kind," said Li from his position at the NAV console.
"A natural phenomena like what?" Dana thumped the arm of the chair before she thumbed comms to Taipan . " Taipan , this is Hardway.. ."
" Taipan here." Dana didn't recognize the voice. "Go ahead Hardway ."
"We've sighted some intermittent contacts between us and the transit point. Interrogative: Have Taipan 's arrays picked up any alien-band emissions or noted possible contacts of any kind?"
"Negative, Hardway . It's all quiet. We have nothing but clear skies from here to the Castor Transit. You might be chasing sensor ghosts."
Well, fuck you, too, Taipan. "Uh... we copy that, Taipan , and we're going to send a flight of Bitzers ahead just to make sure."
"Already on it, Hardway . Eight Staas F-151s from the 99th Wicked Weasels are 20,000 Ks out and headed that way."
An hour later, the Operations Console blinked red at Lieutenant Katz with a dozen warnings. It was his third watch ever on the bridge, but it only took him a second to report what he saw to Dana. "OpsCon reports pressure changes between the inner and outer hull, command tower module.... localized to.... sub-section 2."
Dana said, "I swear if they gave us half-assed welds back at Sagan, then I'm going to use the bow of this ship to knock on the Yardmaster’s door when we get back." Katz didn't laugh. He just stared at her waiting for orders. "When something needs to be fixed, you call the redsuits."
"Bridge to Chief Lee," Katz said on internal comms.
Wherever he was, Lee sounded like he was in a hurricane. "I'm working."
"This is Lt. Katz. OpsCon reports pressure fluctuations between the hulls – command tower, sub-section 2. Request you get some suits out there an-"
"Yeah, yeah," Chief Lee said. "We know the drill, Bridge. Relax. Redsuits are on it."
*****
Chief Horcheese used her suit computer to open the bay 12 doors from inside the knuckledragger's chest and walked the 4-meter-tall mechanized suit towards Burr. It hunched forward like a gorilla, using its clenched fists as extra feet. Astronautics Maintenance
Biko said, "You're not protecting Harry Cozen, Ram. You're protecting his lie. And if it got out that this wasn't a war of alien aggression after all, then it would mess humanity up bad enough that we might just lose this war. It can't get out. Period."
"What about peace? What if it's possible?"
"Even if you believe her," Biko said, "the Squidies' terms for peace might not be so great. Besides, this isn't what we agreed on. We said we'd win this war and then deal justice to Cozen ourselves when it's over. And that's what we're going to do. We need him, Ram. When this war is over, you can burn a hole clear through his brain and avenge the dead. But until then, we need him."
Chapter Nine
Dana Sellis sat in the command chair for the trip across Groomsbridge to the Castor Transit. It was worth losing a few hours of sleep to have the chair. Before the war, she'd been the ship's geologist. She picked the rocks thejunks dug. When the war came, Cozen had promoted her to Lt. Commander and the more she sat in that command chair, the more she liked it. Third watch, fourth, dog watch, it didn't matter. If she got to sit in the chair, she'd take the shift. So far, she hadn't screwed it up.
Bergano had the Air Traffic Controller's console on that watch. He called out the contacts when they appeared. "Multiple bogies, 63 million Ks out, bearing 149 flat – right in between us and the transit point."
"Where the hell did they come from? Did they just blink into existence and shine all over our LiDAR?"
"It's a radar return," he said. "And it's gone." The blinking red dots disappeared from the projected display.
"It could have been a natural phenomena of some kind," said Li from his position at the NAV console.
"A natural phenomena like what?" Dana thumped the arm of the chair before she thumbed comms to Taipan . " Taipan , this is Hardway.. ."
" Taipan here." Dana didn't recognize the voice. "Go ahead Hardway ."
"We've sighted some intermittent contacts between us and the transit point. Interrogative: Have Taipan 's arrays picked up any alien-band emissions or noted possible contacts of any kind?"
"Negative, Hardway . It's all quiet. We have nothing but clear skies from here to the Castor Transit. You might be chasing sensor ghosts."
Well, fuck you, too, Taipan. "Uh... we copy that, Taipan , and we're going to send a flight of Bitzers ahead just to make sure."
"Already on it, Hardway . Eight Staas F-151s from the 99th Wicked Weasels are 20,000 Ks out and headed that way."
An hour later, the Operations Console blinked red at Lieutenant Katz with a dozen warnings. It was his third watch ever on the bridge, but it only took him a second to report what he saw to Dana. "OpsCon reports pressure changes between the inner and outer hull, command tower module.... localized to.... sub-section 2."
Dana said, "I swear if they gave us half-assed welds back at Sagan, then I'm going to use the bow of this ship to knock on the Yardmaster’s door when we get back." Katz didn't laugh. He just stared at her waiting for orders. "When something needs to be fixed, you call the redsuits."
"Bridge to Chief Lee," Katz said on internal comms.
Wherever he was, Lee sounded like he was in a hurricane. "I'm working."
"This is Lt. Katz. OpsCon reports pressure fluctuations between the hulls – command tower, sub-section 2. Request you get some suits out there an-"
"Yeah, yeah," Chief Lee said. "We know the drill, Bridge. Relax. Redsuits are on it."
*****
Chief Horcheese used her suit computer to open the bay 12 doors from inside the knuckledragger's chest and walked the 4-meter-tall mechanized suit towards Burr. It hunched forward like a gorilla, using its clenched fists as extra feet. Astronautics Maintenance
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