Galactic Council Realm 3: On Guard Read online

  As we stepped into the tube, Wind Chime began a circuit of the Combat Control workstations. The tube sealed. In a count of five, it popped out of the armored shell and the muted lighting of Combat Control and rose into the brilliant white and blazing spotlights of the ship’s Bridge.

  Chapter 19

  Captain Tuulia stood beside the Captain’s command chair. Around her were two Ensigns and a handful of Naval Enlisted. She raised her head and nodded to Captain Haitham. Turning back to her staff, she continued speaking.

  “I want a resolution. Figure it from the ship’s position in one hour,” she instructed the Bridge crew, “Once we get authorization from Councilor Peng, I’ll review the equations. Helm Control, prepare engineering, and alert Combat Control. They’ll need to do an emergency recovery of the defensive screen. We’ll stay at battle stations until we’re under External Drive. Anything else?”

  The last question was directed as much to Captain Haitham as it was to her team.

  Captain Haitham said in a loud command voice, “Captain Tuulia. Permission to enter the Bridge.”

  In that one statement, he’d given his approval for her orders and acknowledged her position, Captain of the BattleShip.

  “Permission granted,” she said barely hiding the relief in her voice.

  I imagined the Navigator in her, who preferred to hide in complicated algorithms, had been in conflict with her need to make command decisions on the fly. Not a pleasant experience for an introverted personality.

  We started to walk towards the Captain’s chair. It was a short distance but suddenly, our path was blocked by a pair of women Marines.

  “Ma’am?” one of them said without taking her eyes off of me.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, that’s Eaglet and J-Pop,” Tuulia whined, “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the Marine replied flatly.

  I could tell by the Marine’s tone she had no intention of stopping. In her opinion, anyone approaching Tuulia was a threat, and needed to be challenged before gaining access to the ship’s Captain.

  To reinforce the Marine’s intuitive sense of duty, I whispered as I walked by, “Your Eleventh General Order.”

  The Marine Corps teaches a basic set of rules for guard duty. Most situations are covered by them. I’d let the Marine know I approved of her actions by referring to one of those standing orders. The 11th General Order instructs, ‘To be especially watchful at night and, during the time for challenging, to challenge all persons on or near my post and to allow no one to pass without proper authority.’

  “Eaglet. This is impossible,” Captain Tuulia said softly so no one else could hear, “The enemy fleet is closing. I don’t have a chain of command and I’m not good at this.”

  “You’re doing fine,” Haitham assured her, “Once we clear the Tres sector, we’ll have time to sort this out.”

  Before she could respond, the hatch to the Bridge opened and three armored Marines rushed in. They spread out to either side of the opening. Everyone on the Bridge tensed except for Tuulia’s Marines. They simply appeared in front of Captain Tuulia acting as a barrier between her and the open hatch.

  It was then, at the most tense time, Hui Peng decided to rush across the room. One of the newly arrived Marines raised his rifle.

  “Attention on deck,” I ordered seeing the Councilor being wheeled down the passageway, “Councilor Peng on deck.”

  The Councilor wasn’t part of the Galactic Council military and didn’t rate the order to cease talking and brace at attention. I’d just called for it to break the tension and bring a focus to everyone on the Bridge.

  The old man looked better then when I’d left him. He had dressed in a suit and seemed stronger. His grandson joined him and walked beside the wheelchair as it approached us.

  “As you were,” Eaglet called out releasing the crew, “Councilor Peng. I’m Captain Haitham. This is Captain Tuulia. And this is...”

  “I know Lieutenant Piran,” Peng said interrupting the Captain, “He has a habit of showing up when I need him most.”

  “I’m beginning to feel the same,” Eaglet admitted, “Councilor Shi Peng. We have a situation and require your authorization. We’ve created a presentation highlighting the salient points.”

  “You require my permission to move the Ander El Aitor out of the Tres sector,” the old Councilor stated, “Because Councilor Khalida Jalal is a traitor and there is an unknown fleet heading towards the planet. Lieutenant Piran has briefed me.”

  “Yes Sir, that is the situation,” Captain Tuulia said looking at me with a crocked smile, “With your permission?”

  “As a Counselor in good standing and a representative of the Galactic Council,” he said, “I am first required to assure the personnel in command are of a rank to command. Rear Admiral Haitham, you will promote assistants to fit your needs. Rear Admiral Tuulia, you also will promote assistants. I will see that the Galactic Council approves the promotions. However, I will require updates from your people as the voyage progresses.”

  He waited and watched for any argument. When none came, he continued, “Also, I realize the need for NCOs. Please, within reason, promote a significant number of personnel to assure the proper operation of a capitol warship of the Realm.”

  “J-Pop, any ideas?” Rear Admiral Haitham asked.

  “Yes, Admiral,” I replied looking at Tuulia’s aggressive Marine guard, “Her, she needs to be a Sergeant. However, the Marine Corps doesn’t allow for battle field promotions.”

  “We’ll sort that out later,” Eaglet said turning to stare at the Councilor, “Sir, we have the proper command rank. Our Officer corps and NCOs will be in place soon. We await your authorization.”

  “Rear Admiral Haitham, in time of war and this is a time of war, many things change,” Councilor Peng stated, “You are instructed to take command of the BattleShip Ander El Aitor.”

  “But Sir, we just,” Haitham began.

  “I do not like repeating myself,” Councilor Peng growled, “but I will this one time. Rear Admiral Haitham take command of the BattleShip Ander El Aitor. Now I am weary, can someone take me to my quarters? I have a lot of catching up to do with my grandson.”

  Hui Peng pushed the wheelchair and the Marine guards filed out along with it. As they left the Command deck, the tough, take no prisoners old man giggled at a comment from his grandson.

  I turned to Eaglet and said, “Rear Admiral. I have an appointment with the ship’s Druids. With your permission?”

  A look of shock had frozen on his face. He didn’t respond until Tuulia spoke.

  “J-Pop. Go to your meeting,” she ordered then pulling Eaglet’s shoulder around so they were face to face said, “Rear Admiral Haitham. With your permission, Sir, I’d like to launch on a course out of the Tres sector.”

  “Granted,” the former Assistant Chief of Flight Operations mumbled.

  “The ship’s Captain has issued cruising orders,” Tuulia said to the Bridge crew, “All stations prepare to depart the Tres sector.”

  While she spoke to the staff, who would in turn relay the orders to departments throughout the ship, Haitham spoke into his headset, “Lieutenant Perwira, recover the edge of the screen.”

  He’d ordered her to bring in the outer layer of the defense screen. The slower and furthest out GunShips would begin coming back to the ship. He’d also made his first promotion making Wind Chime a Lieutenant. With a Ship’s Captain in place, the Ander El Aitor could at last move out of the way of the inbound Constabulary fleet.

  I followed the Councilor’s party out to the passageway. They’d already taken the lift. While I waited for the next one, I messaged Warlock.

  ‘Atrium, in half hour. Need team in ambush position just in case things go sideways,’ I typed.

  ‘Alert,’ she replied.

  The atrium was empty and I took a seat on the same bench. As I waited for the Druids to appear with a decision, I scanned the walls above the vault door. H
igh up on either side were two dark masses. Anyone exiting the vault would have their backs to the lumps. To kill time, I pivoted my head and peered at the planters behind me.

  Stone Angel peeked around a planter and graced me with a raised thumb. He’d shown himself on purpose, but I couldn’t locate Warlock or Heavy Rain. With the Earth elements behind me, I figured the lumps, high up on the bulkhead, were Thunder Eagle and Fire Dove. It’s nice to have reinforcements when dealing with rebellious Druids.

  The Druids were on time for a change. The wheel on the vault spun, and I relaxed. The first to exit were small Druids in grey robes, children.

  As a calling, being a Druid was all encompassing. Their focus on the Heart plants and other duties didn’t leave much time to procreate. My parents did, as had a few on the Ander El Aitor. This is why the Druids depend on my Clan for candidates. And, why I relaxed. They wouldn’t send out their most precious resource, if it meant a fight.

  The four small figures walked straight towards me. They stopped as one and bowed. I listened and, while outwardly they were steady, their hearts were pounding in their chests. Each was fixated on the Knight Protector of the Clan pin attached to my collar. They must have overheard the adults arguing during the Gathering. Some harsh words about my warning must have been said, and the children heard just enough to be leery of me.

  I wasn’t here to scare children. I was here to secure our six from a possible fifth column. So I stood up slowly.

  “Greetings Druids,” I said bowing to them.

  Their lock step performance broke down. Hesitatingly and staggered, they replied at four different times.

  “Knight Protector of the Clan, we have no words,” the out-of-time chorus replied. They were precious in their disorder; too cute.

  Next through the vault came the Elder with the attitude. Not that all Druids don’t have attitudes, but few dared call a Knight delusional. He walked to the end of the line of children and presented me with a stiff bow. I ignored him. Standing in line with the children told me all I needed to know about the fate of the Elder.

  Six Druid warriors stepped onto the atrium deck. They spread out to either side of the vault door. Their fighting sticks were extended but held along their sides. I wondered what the Strikers were thinking about this display from the Druids. Their association with these mysterious men and woman was limited. And now they had a ringside seat to a ceremony. It must be confusing for them.

  He was tall, but narrow through the shoulders. Not slim just more compact then showy. His stride was slow. The measured steps of a fighter keeping perfect balance as he covered the distance from the vault to about a pace in front of me.

  “Knight Protector of the Clan,” He stated in clipped Druid speak, “I am Maredudd. I have words.”

  “Speak your words, Maredudd,” I replied flatly.

  “I am the Elder. We are with, and of, the Galactic Council Realm,” he replied, “Will you lift your decree?”

  “I will. No harm will come to a Druid,” I said, “I have words.”

  “Speak your words, Knight,” he said allowing me to make a request.

  “We have Empress’ conspirators in the crew,” I reported, “It would be helpful to have Druid warriors augmenting the Marine guards.”

  “Your Devil Dogs caged too long?” he whispered, “They forget how to fight?”

  My head jerked back and for a second I wanted to tell him to shove his Druid opinion. Then, I noticed the smile on his face.

  “That’s a joke, right?” I asked.

  “Lieutenant Piran, yes, a jest,” he answered, “We are members of the crew and will do our duty.”

  “I have no more words,” I said.

  He turned and walked in that economical manner back to the vault. The children and the ex-Elder followed. Last to file out of the atrium were the six Druid warriors.

  I raised my arm and made a circular motion. Soon, I was joined by the five Strikers.

  “J-Pop, that was interesting,” Heavy Rain said, “Care to expound on what you were doing?”

  “Yes Sir, I’d like to hear that,” Stone Angel added, “Also, I’d like to know why the Druids have such a fascination with the little pin on your collar.”

  “They couldn’t take their eyes off it,” Warlock tossed in, “especially the kids.”

  I didn’t want to lie to the Strike Kill team after all we’d been through. So, I kept the answer short.

  “I’m sort of an honorary Druid,” I said pointing to the Knight pin on my collar, “It’s a title with a few perks. Knight Protector of the Clan is what they call me and the pin identifies me to Druids. But, I’d rather it not be made public.”

  “Is one of the perks your black pajamas?” Fire Dove asked with a sneer.

  “Yes, as well as these,” I replied snapping the Knight fighting sticks open.

  While we were talking, I’d slipped my hands into the muffler on the clan strap. They emerged clad in wrist guards with an alloy tipped Knight fighting stick in each hand.

  The Strikers, while not knowing the Knight sticks, did recognize their lethal potential. They bent forwards and examined the alloy tips. Light refused to reflect off of the sharp points. It was obvious the tips, during a fight, would all but disappear.

  “Impressive,” Warlock commented, “but I’ll stay with my sword.”

  “I prefer a big blade myself,” Heavy Rain said, “J-Pop, your secret is safe with us. Alert!”

  “Alert,” the other four Strikers echoed his last word.

  “Alert,” I said then asked, “What does, Alert, mean?”

  “Anything but No,” Thunder Eagle replied.

  Chapter 20

  I asked the Strikers to roam the ship checking on section departments as they patrolled. They left me and I headed back to the Bridge. The newly appointed Rear Admiral Haitham hadn’t assigned me a duty station. With the lack of senior supervisors, a Senior Lieutenant should be an asset. I couldn’t imagine him not taking advantage of my rank. So, I asked him about a duty assignment.

  “Well, Lieutenant Piran,” Haitham said looking up from one of the many screens on the arm of his captain’s chair, “It’s not that I don’t respect your rank or your performance.”

  He was interrupted by a call from the Navigation station. I turned my head and could see Tuulia at a bank of computers.

  “Captain, we have finished the External evolution equations,” she said. Her voice was coming through a speaker in his chair, “Two hours of Internal drive at maximum power starting in one hour. Is that enough time to withdraw the defensive screen?”

  “It’ll be tight but Wind Chime has most of the GunShips recovered already,” he said running a finger over another screen, “I’ll have her bring in the Fighters. The BattlePlatforms can keep pace as we increase velocity. Rear Admiral Tuulia, start your clocks.”

  “Aye, aye Capitan, running power to Internal drive,” she advised Haitham. She also added a call to the Communications station, “Notify Naval Movement Command. Course and heading to follow.”

  Most ships would have to wait for Movement Command to clear the route. When you’re a BattleShip, Movement Command’s job was to clear the course for the big red monster.

  There was no sense of movement. Just a slight vibration of the deck plating as engineering brought all the ion cannons of the Internal drive online.

  “Lieutenant Perwira, bring your Fighter flights home,” the Captain ordered the newly appointed chief of flight operations, “Send word to the Bricks they have under an hour remaining.”

  It was a nice touch letting the BattlePlatform pilots know how much time they had left in flight. Those warships were cramped. Their pilots clamped in place and their movements restricted in order to withstand the maneuvers of the Bricks. They wouldn’t be happy but at least they could count down the minutes until recovery.

  I was forgotten during the exchanges. I stepped back to avoid crowding the ship’s Captain. While he coordinated the clocks and power matching b
etween the Helm and Navigation, I looked around the Bridge. There were two Marines near Tuulia and two standing on the far side of the Captain’s chair. At the entrance to the Bridge, where there were two Marines, one had been replaced by a Druid.

  ‘Thank you Elder Maredudd,’ I thought, knowing there were now loyal Druids posted around the BattleShip.

  From the passage way, a Messman wheeled an A-frame cart onto the Bridge. After locking the wheels, he began folding down the sides. Each layer of the slopped sides transformed into shelves with sandwiches, beverages, fruits and desserts.

  The atmosphere on the Bridge, until then, had been calm. A lot of it was due to the leadership of Haitham and Tuulia. They outwardly presented a relaxed and professional demeanor even if inside they didn’t feel it. The Bridge team had picked up on the confidence and reflected their commanders’ mannerisms. But something was disturbing the calm.

  I glanced around to see if anyone else had detected the disruption. No one was obviously distracted or agitated. A few stomachs rumbled from hunger but it wasn’t enough to unsettle me. Starting with the Helm station, I concentrated on the crewmen seeking a clue to my uneasiness? After the Helm, I focused on Navigation and again I detected nothing. Engineering and Communications, still nothing, and after the Captain’s station, I was at a loss.

  Maybe it was me. I closed my eyes and realized my heart was beating rapidly. Almost as if I were having a panic attack. But, I felt fine otherwise. Head clear, no eye or ear issues, these were my first fears. I didn’t care to have the hyper sensitivity back. Opening my eyes, I again scanned the Bridge.

  Then, the Druid sprang from where he’d stood watch at the hatch to the Bridge. He careened around the A-frame food cart and kneed the Messman to the deck. As the man hit the floor, the Druid’s stick snapped open. In a perfect arc, the fighting stick sailed around and smashed the Messman’s wrist. But the Druid wasn’t finished, the stick rose again and cracked across the man’s forehead.

  The Marines jerked up their weapons and targeted the Druid. Now with four pistols and a rifle pointing at him, the Druid stood like a statue. The broken fighting stick held out from his side. Following the crooked length of the stick, I saw it was actually pointing at the rebreather pouch on the Messman’s hip.