Read Coming Home (Free Fleet Book 2) Online
Authors: Michael Chatfield
I forced everyone to get at least six hours of forced rest the final day before we entered into the next system. An hour before we emerged everyone was in their Mechas, the gun crew were manning their guns and engineering was in reaction areas for damage control.
“Transitioning, event horizon formed,” Vort said.
“Lowering sails,” Milra said as the gossamer looking sheets pulled together and then retracted underneath the armor plating.
“Entering horizon,” Ben said a few minutes later. Their voice were tense.
“Configuring shields.” Krat didn’t share in any of the nervousness of my bridge staff. In wormhole travel there were no shields instead, we had to rely on layers which stopped particles speeding through our ships and bodies.
The metallic, colorful swirl which had enveloped us changed to a surrounding darkness, the blandness of complete darkness illuminated by trillions of stars.
Its starkness held a different kind of beauty and could—and had—mesmerized more than one person with it's vista as wormholes had in the time of the Union.
All that life, so much to discover, and so much beauty and here we're going to fight a battle,
I thought sourly for a second before turning to my tasks.
“Clear of Horizon,” Ben said as the ship seemed to calm without a hiccup at the exit from the wormhole.
“Populating map with sensor buoys information,” Vort said. He'd already completed the hand shake protocol with the sensor buoy.
“Weapons are deployed and roving,” Marleen added. Everyone’s voices were business-like and brisk as silence reigned except for information snippets between groups.
Kart was one of her supposed sub-commanders, but reported directly to me instead of Marleen. Shields were our first line of defense, after all.
“Shields are online and accommodating the system's gravitational forces,” he said.
“The fleet has emerged from the wormhole with us. All thirteen accounted for,” In Sook said. No one relaxed, even though we’d all made it through yet another possibly deadly wormhole transition. Other things could kill us and in the near future.
“We're cleared out to five light minutes. Sensor buoys reporting nothing in the system.” Vort's voice was calming to everyone as we relaxed minutely.
“Good work, people. Milra, begin charging generators,” I said as the tell tale thrum began once again.
The worm limit was an unseen line in which the ships were outside of the solar system. We jumped from here as it created less issues going through the wormhole, and we came out at the same limit to make sure that we didn't arrive inside an atmosphere or right into a rock. Being on the system side closer to where we were jumping took less charging and thus less fuel. Yet, you could jump from any worm limit. Making it so we could stay where we arrived from the first wormhole, jump to a limit or open space within range, and then repeat the process again, never entering a systems and shaving days off of our arrival time. It had been just over two weeks since Parnmal had detected the Syndicate fleet. I was expecting it to take us at least that time to get our preparations completed and get to Parnmal, making it close to five weeks since the Syndicate fleet was first detected.
Chapter Arrivals
“Gravitational anomalies!” Qurt said as Wilma threw Rebirth in order to avoid the impingements on the wormhole throat.
“I'm dropping us out now,” Wilma said as more anomalies cropped up in the sensor feed and she reduced the amount of power going to the wormhole generators and kept the throat open.
Rebirth shuddered as the throat reduced in size and the swirling metallic colors slowed.
“Coming out in five, four, three, two, one.”
There was no time for talking as commanders and their people worked to keep Rebirth together in seconds notice.
Rebirth's structure screamed as Bregend grunted. There was nothing that he could do.
Power fed back into the command center as power lines overloaded, smoke filling the area, Mecha helmets sealing to keep it out as Bregend climbed out of his chair. Grabbing a fire extinguisher, he sprayed the fires as the Rebirth screeched again. Controller Worchek was covered in sparks, his Mecha saving him from a serious burn.
“We're clear of the wormhole, stabilizing,” Wilma said, her voice now inside Bregend's helmet as he pulled up a schematic of the ship on his built in arm data pad.
“Shit,” he said as he looked at the damage. It was severe.
“Get us on silent running and behind some cover. Flush sensor buoys.” Bregend said and his people saw to it.
Bregend took his seat again.
“Preliminary, looks like the Rebirth won't be making any jumps anytime soon,” Mills informed him as his face took on a gargoyle-like appearance, his heavy lifting adding to he protruded lips and large cheeks.
“Well, she's going to have to. Use whatever we got. I don't care if we have to use cables and splint her. We have three more systems to go,” Bregend said, brooding as his map populated. He had a week to go till he got to Cheerleader.
Five weeks since the first report,
he thought, wishing he could bend physics just a bit more to get there sooner.
***
I watched as Vort updated the sensor output of Chaleel with our own sensors. He accessed the information stored in a stealth sensor collector.
“Populating system map,” he said as the handshake protocol went through and the plot populated.
“Good, we'll go in-system to get fuel from our outpost and then continue on.” I had already said the plan once, but there were also contingent plans based on what we found.
It was a few hours later when Walf spoke up.
“Incoming communication from Chaleels planetary governor.”
“On screen.”
“Ah, Commander Salchar, it is good to see you again.” I could see by the way the governor’s elongated head drooped that he was speaking the truth. The fact he was trying to have a conversation with me with a seven minute time delay was going to be quite annoying.
“Only here for a short period of time. We have some bastards playing around in our backyard,” I said, sipping on water.
Well, this is going to be a long conversation,
I moaned inside my head.
“Yes, indeed.” The Chaleelian Governor's eyes became cold.
“How is your Planetary Defense Force?”
“It is good.” I could see tension return to the governor as his snout lifted as if in challenge.
“Don’t worry, I’m not stripping them. I just wanted to see what their missile supply was like.”
“We need every missile, Commander.”
“I don’t doubt it, and I am willing to give the Free Fleet personnel in this system plans for more missiles as well as the specialized machinery to re-arm your ships.”
“We do not have those kinds of natural resources on Chaleel.”
“I was going to put it on your asteroid belt or on your fifth planet.”
“It has no atmosphere, though,” he said.
This conversation has been going on for an hour and a half nearly,
I thought as Rick, outside the feed, was mouthing those exact words before leaving, a mischievous grin on his face.
“Drop in asteroids in one place, strip them and then spit out weapons and ammunition. Other things will be available as well, such as ships and engines, with enough time. Though, as the primary sentient inhabitants, to my knowledge, I want to ask if this is okay with you?”
“Yes, it suits us. You may have five percent of the planet, though,” he said, nodding his head officiously.
I would never put the machines on a planet, but I would need somewhere secure to hold such armaments. The machines would be put in the belt to get reloads out faster, also, they were closer to resources and could be moved quickly…
“Thank you. Shall we have this as the official record?” I asked as Rick had returned and began eating some kind of
real
food in front of me as I waited for the response.
“Make it so,” he said as he straightened his appearance.
“As witnessed here, the fifth planet of the Chaleel system, Salchar, the Free Fleet will control five percent on its land mass,” I said, Rick making a show of eating his roast beef and all the trimmings, down to the Yorkshire pudding.
I should have never told him about how I had Yorkshires, soo good! Ass,
I thought, trying to impress my words on him with my eyes as I waited.
“I, Planetary Governor Ferwlick, accept these terms as long as the Free Fleet keeps their word to re-arm the Chaleelian space force on agreed terms.”
“I, Commander Salchar, agree.”
There's even gravy!
“Very good, Commander,” Edwards said, “for a second you had me going. I actually thought that we were in a different solar system, talking to another group of aliens.” He'd learnt how to activate his comms.
“I did not give you permission to talk, Edwards. When talking to the person that has a more populated and powerful planet than your own, it might serve to hold your tongue,” I said as his guards took him away, complaining as he usually did when he was in the mess.
“Who is this creature that talks?” Ferwlick hissed, his tongue flashing out in anger as he received the transmission a few minutes late.
“He is-” I tried explaining as Edwards yelled over me.
“Your hologram is more powerful than Earth? I think not. Plus, you say he has a more powerful planet? We have two protecting bases and a shipyard.” He let out a sardonic rush of air as I looked to him.
“Correction, the Free Fleet does,” I said back to him as I turned to Ferwlick, nodding my head in respect
“I am sorry. Sometimes one must teach their young and idiotic,” I said as the guards were pulling Edwards away in a rash of threats.
“I am disappointed that you have one as such in your ranks,” Ferwilick said. He had been a warrior, a friend of Carsickle's actually, but in a time when nothing but war with the Syndicate was practically guaranted, they'd taken a man used to such items.
“Trust me, I would not accept one like this into my ranks,” I growled. Ferwlick nodded his head to the side in acceptance, a slight apology without losing face.
I held a finger up to the guards taking Edwards.
“If Ferwlick so wanted to invade Sol System, you’ve just told him your defenses and the targets he should pick for long range bombardment. Now, if you want to keep putting people in this fleets home's in danger, keep talking. Don’t worry, I have recorded everything you have said and I will be reporting it to Earth’s governing body.” The color drained from his face. God, it felt good to turn the tables on the smug bastard. I turned back to Ferwlick as the blast doors closed on a mercifully silent Edwards.
A contemplating Rick was gnawing on a Yorkshire.
He has no mercy,
I thought.
“Sorry for that interruption, Governor. We will have our people meet us on our journey to the nearest point we can transition to AIH and then Parnmal.”
Sensors reported on my personal screen that the area had been checked and the sensor buoys were reporting that there was no enemy in the area. Intelligence Department was reporting the same in their study of sensor logs, Tactical was going to half across the fleet and Commandos were standing down and preparing for the next part of my plan.
“Very well, I wish you well on your journey.” He brought himself up, looking at the camera fully as a sign of respect. “Thank you for what you and your fleet have done, Commander Salchar. May we, upon your return, take tea in the Southern regions of Chaleel?”
“I would be honored, Planetary Governor Ferwlick.” I inclined my head in the Chaleelian way of deep thanks.
“Till then.” He cut the channel and I opened a private channel to Eddie, being transferred to a console.
“Get those bucking cables ready! You dolts, I told you ton get them ready when the commander came up with this latest harebrained idea!” A boot flew across the screens pickup as I reflected that the Free Fleet members were picking up one another's idioms quite quickly. A yelp came from the boot connecting with an offending ‘dolt’.
Eddie made his defining limp into the view, only having one boot.
“What?” he demanded before looking at his foot, pressing a button on his belt before grinning.
“Looks like they finally figured out how to out-maneuver my boots. I'll just have to get old school.”
Of course he'd find a learning opportunity in hurling boots at his people.
“I need to put a damned magnet in that thing.” He shrugged, looking up into the feed. “Well, you going to answer me?”
“I take it everything is under control?”
“Nothing’s under damned control! I am more shorthanded than I was in the Syndicate fleet. But, if you’re asking if we’re ready to try out your idea, then yes, we’re damned well ready. I think you’ve watched too many westerns and rodeos with their damned nooses.”
“Maybe a few, wait how do you know-”
“Hey! What in the ejection port are you doing over there! Git!”