Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Turmoil (6 page)

"Miss it that
much, huh?" Loren heard a voice ask from behind him.  He turned to see
Commander Merritt Elder, the man in charge of the squadron.

"Did you come
here just to taunt me?" Loren said with a smile.

"No, Web is
going to take care of that," Merritt reassured him.  "He'll be here
in a bit; he managed to assign himself to fly your transport down."

"Commander!"
Loren heard a cheerful voice call out from the duty desk, which straddled the
open blast doorway between the hangar and ready rooms.  It was Web, and he was
all smiles.  "I wanted to take the flight myself to ensure that your
lily-white uniform and dainty hands aren't dirtied in the process."

"Dammit,"
Loren said as Web arrived.  "I thought I had you transferred to
mine-clearing duty in Priman space."  Web put on a hurt face, and Loren looked
at Merritt conspiratorially.  "Did I say that out loud?" he asked. 
Merritt laughed as the three exchanged handshakes and good-natured ribbing. 
Friendships aside, they'd fought together and saved each other's lives numerous
times, and had earned the right to make a few off-colored jokes about their
parentage and bathroom habits along the way.

"Cataloging
Web's disgusting habits again?" asked Captain Elco as he entered the
hangar carrying a small case.  The three tried their best to come to attention
and look respectable, but Elco just waved them off.  "Are you going
alphabetically or by degree of offense?" he continued, at which point
Loren had to give in and laugh with Elco and the rest.

"I hate to
break up the festivities," Elco said, "but we have an arrival slot
from Traffic Control, so we'll have to shove off."  He turned to Merritt
and Web, then nodded at each.  "Gentlemen, see you late tonight." 
With that, he continued across the hangar floors, which were once again clean
and gleaming after the ship's yard time, and up the short rear ramp into the
transport.

"Well, I guess
that means I sort of have to go, too," added Loren, and gave Merritt a
quick fist to the shoulder as he followed the captain.

Web and Merritt
watched them go.  Finally, Web looked at Merritt and raised his eyebrow. 
"I suppose I need to go as well?" Web asked with a grin.  Merritt
just chuckled and headed off to Flight Control to watch their departure.

Web jogged up the
ramp, slapping the pad that raised and sealed it behind him.  He made his way
to the cockpit after getting a thumbs-up from the captain and XO to indicate
their readiness.  Actually, the gesture Loren gave him was not exactly a
thumbs-up, but among fighter pilots the meaning was the same.

Helmet on, Web had
the co-pilot read the checklist, lighting up the drives and hovering over to
the launch spot.  In position, checklists complete, he nudged the transport
over the marked area which indicated Avenger's launch control computers would
take over.  He tapped a few buttons on the autopilot panel and saw the lights
go from green to amber, signaling Avenger had control.  This was the part that
always gave pilots the sweats; the computer was in control of the vessel now. 
It was understandable, considering how tight a fit the clearances were between
the blast door frame and the transport, but fighter pilots were a Type A lot
and would never admit to being comfortable turning the flying over to anyone or
anything other than themselves.

Web suppressed a
grimace as he watched the throttles advance on their own and the flight stick
wiggle a bit, then the transport was catapulted out of the hangar bay and began
the turn to their assigned departure corridor away from the ship.  A second
later, the autopilot lights turned green and Web gratefully took over the
controls.

"We're safe
now; I'm back in control," he reassured Loren and the captain over the
intercom. 

"Gods be
praised," Loren said out of habit.  It was good to be flying again, even
if he wasn't the one in the pointy end.   

Their arrival in the
military base on the outskirts of Lemuria's capital city of Tirnan was
uneventful.  The base itself was fairly substantial, but the problem was there
were only a handful on the entire planet; not nearly enough to mount a serious
defense.  Like the Confederation and most large empires in the galaxy, internal
conflict was almost nonexistent, and outright invasions from hostile parties
were a rarity.  The only reason Confed and the Talarans had kept such a large
standing military was their standoff with the Enkarran Empire, a worry that the
Lemurians didn't have to deal with being so far away from the Enkarrans. 
Sandwiched between the Talaran Collection and Confederation of Systems, it was
an ideal place to be if one chose to go it alone.

Right now, Loren
realized, it was going to cost these people.  There was just no way they could
defend themselves against the Primans, and he wondered why Avenger had really
been sent here in the first place.  If the Primans came in force, Lemuria would
fall, and Avenger with her three-ship task force wouldn't be anything more than
a speed bump in the great highway of Priman conquest.

"And this is
the senior military commander of our surface forces," the government
official carried on as he indicated a burly man with a chest full of buttons,
ribbons, and colored gemstones, "General Arcas Horle."

The General nodded
professionally at Loren and Captain Elco, then indicated the officer standing
next to him.  "This is my second in command, Captain Renner." 

The captain saluted
and Loren returned the gesture.  This was probably the person he'd be dealing
with for the next few days.

"I hate to rush
things," began the official, "but the Governor is expecting the press
conference to start in half an hour."  He indicated Elco.  "Captain,
this is mostly a photo op, so there's no real business to conduct today.  The
suggestion was made for your XO to stay here and have a tour of the base.  You
two can depart from here later and tomorrow is when you'll be able to spend
some time with the Governor and conduct some business."

Elco looked at
Loren, who just shrugged.  Avenger's captain allowed himself to be led off, at
which point Captain Renner looked at Loren with a curious expression. 
"Looks like we finally have some time to chat about what's really on all
of our minds, Commander."

Loren had to hand it
to the Drisk captain; he was as straight-to-the-point as he would have expected
of a Drisk.  In spite of himself, he smiled.  The man reminded him in some ways
of his old friend Delgin Marks, the former XO of Avenger whose place he'd taken
after he'd perished in the opening days of the war.

"You don't have
a target range around here, do you?" Loren asked.  "Nothing clears
the air like shooting holes in things."

"Clearly you
are a wise and learned man," Renner replied with a smile of his own. 
"I see you're carrying your SSK.  Have you had to use it much?"

"It's saved by
butt more than once."  Loren drew the weapon, checked to make sure it was
powered down, and handed it to Renner.  The other officer double-checked it was
safe, then ejected the magazine to inspect the armor piercing rounds. 

"Looks like
it's well maintained," he observed with approval.

"Some of the
best weapons I've ever fired were Drisk designs," Loren said.  "Treat
the weapon right, and it will return the favor."

Loren and Captain
Renner spent a few minutes discussing the shooting house.  It was similar in
design to those used all over the galaxy.  The facility was out in the open; a
maze of rooms and hallways built of reinforced walls.  Armor piercing rounds
were prohibited; laser blasts only.  Renner selected his own favorite training
scenario: unknown number of hostages in the building, being held by a Priman
opposing force of unknown number.  Renner explained that the simulator would
randomly select between six and sixteen Primans to be active in the building. 
They were semi-intelligent bots, humanoid torsos on antigrav plates that
allowed them to roam the entire building.  Loren and Renner- the man didn't
appear to use a first name- wore vests and caps that would register targeting
laser hits on them as fired by the bots.

"At least we
get to use combat loads and not some sad training lasers," Loren commented
as they stood at the doorway, datalinked shooting glasses in place.  The
glasses served to show their positions on the top-down map overlay available if
Loren looked up and to the right on the glasses.  It could also show the projected
impact point similar to old-school red-dot laser designators, but with the
advantage that the only place it was displayed was on the glasses.  Loren
enjoyed shooting much more when the technology was at a minimum; he used the
map, but nothing else.

"I suppose it's
hard to get permission to go shooting a lot of live rounds aboard ship,"
Renner replied.

"Only on
special occasions," Loren admitted.  "Every once in a while I can
talk the range officer into letting me have some fun, but they're supposed to
keep full-power exercises few and far between.  What fun is that, right?"

"Agreed." 
Renner looked at Loren.  "Ready?"

"Let's kill
some Primans."  Loren raised his weapon in a two handed grip, right arm
bent in a V shape.  His left arm was bent as well, elbow lifted a little higher
with his fingers on the outside of the right ones where they gripped the
weapon.  Pushing slightly with the right hand, gently pulling with the left, it
put the weapon in tension and made for a stable grip.         

There were a dozen
or more widely practiced close quarters techniques that were taught as methods
to clear buildings.  Not having the time to review and memorize each other's
procedures, they'd adopted simple and time-tested cues for their exercise.

Renner pushed open
the swinging door and they burst in, Renner clearing the left and Loren
clearing the right.  Loren swung his weapon to the far corner on his right, the
most distant corner in his field of fire.  From there, he quickly tracked his
weapon back to the center of the room.  Renner was doing the same, and their
fields of fire overlapped as they determined the room to be safe.  They both
whispered 'clear', then made their way to the next doorway.  This time Loren
took the lead, concentrating on the door and listening for any sounds behind
it.  Without a third man to cover their backs, they could only press forward
and use the element of surprise, so he threw open the door and entered.

This time there were
two targets- Tangoes- waiting for them.  Both were hidden in the hard corners,
and Loren and Renner double-tapped each as they entered the room and identified
the shooters.  After a brief pause, Loren put one more in the head of his
target bot as it sank to the floor.

"Vicious,"
Renner said with a smile, then stacked up on the next door.  Loren readied
himself and tapped Renner on the shoulder, the universal signal for 'go', and
followed him in.

The bots had
arranged a surprise.  There were three of them on the far end of a large
ransacked office room, behind a conference table surrounded by chairs. 
Overturned chairs, tables, and workstations littered the space.  A 'hostage',
another target bot wearing business attire, sat in a chair at the conference
table, one of the hostiles behind him.  That bot had an automatic rifle and
opened fire on the pair as they entered.  Loren had to drop to the the floor as
a stream of red laser bolts flashed through the space he'd been occupying a
split second before.  Renner had enough time to put three rounds into one of
the bots before he was forced to dive for cover. 

Rolling and
shuffling until he was behind an overturned chair, Loren peeked out for a half
second and realized his views of the shooters were blocked.  Taking that as an
advantage, he rolled again and ended up in a crouch, looking for a sign.  He
found it as he saw fleeting glances of the torso of one of the bots as it
floated about, trying to get a bead on Renner, who was laying down suppressing
fire over the top of the armoire he had ducked behind.  Loren had his SSK up
and trained on the gap between the tables and chairs, and when the time was
right he triggered off five shots as fast as he could into the bot as it
floated by.  There was a time for clockwork precision and there was a time for
messy overkill; this occasion fell into the 'overkill' category.  He fired a
handful more blasts to keep the last bot from moving to get a shot on him, but
was forced to once again dive to new cover as the automatic rifle started
raining bolts down on his position.  Suddenly, there was a stoppage of fire and
Loren heard the distinctive click/whine of a power cell being discarded.  He
jumped up, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Renner had done the same,
and darted to the side, looking for a shot.  He and Renner opened up at the
same time, catching the bot with a half dozen combined torso hits.

The bot settled to
the floor, chest armor sizzling from the impacts of the SSKs.  They quickly
checked the 'hostage', then stacked up against the back wall.  Now they were
faced with a decision; there were two doors side by side.

"How lucky are
we feeling?" Loren asked as he tapped the switch that released the power
cell on his weapon.  The cylindrical part just forward of the trigger guard
clicked and slid forward, ejecting the small power cell that was contained
inside.  By the time it fell to the floor, Loren had already replaced it with a
new one and was pulling the cover back into position.

"We could
breach these rooms," Renner began, "or maybe see if they'll come to
us."

"Ooh, ambush; I
like it," Loren said thoughtfully.  "Let's clear these rooms first
and if we don
’
t finish them
off we can set up an ambush."

The next room was
empty and they quickly returned to the conference room.  Breaching through the
second door they were rewarded with four bots; two on patrol and one each in
the corners.  Loren double tapped the one in his corner and swung the muzzle
around just in time to shoot the roaming bot in his sector as Renner did the
same.  There were no more doors.