Koban (51 page)

“However, the loss of an arm or leg in the randomness of combat
isn’t necessarily a sign of poor skill as a warrior. Particularly if they complete
the kill or performed well otherwise. And that limb loss isn’t a lifetime debilitating
injury for them, since they will regrow a limb in three to five months of our time.”

“Wow,” Dillon was impressed. “We’ve seen that ability in lower
animals, and of course we can do it in a hospital setting, after about a year or
more of slow growth. How did you find this out?”

“It has happened a few times, and the injured warrior is unable
to engage in normal training, exercise, or raids, so they get assigned guard duty
here. Protecting the animals that damaged them is a sort of penance. You try not
to approach those ‘protectors’ before they get rotated out after recovery.”

He switched the subject back to training. “We can talk about
how to blow legs and heads off a Krall later. You need to learn how to use their
weapons first.”

Standing behind their positions on the line, he shouted “ONE!”

Dillon rapidly turned and fired three rounds at the closest target,
missing the first shot then hitting it twice.

Noreen was a bit slower and fired more deliberately, hitting
the target twice with both shots.

“Noreen, accuracy is important, but the huge advantage the Krall
have on us is speed and strength. By the time you fired, the warrior would have
seen you and leaped or twisted aside, and not only would you have missed, but the
final trigger pull would have been your death spasm as he killed you.”

Thad didn’t let Dillon off easy either. “Better reaction time,
but still too slow for the Krall, and your first shot at short range missed that
big square, so you would never have lived to make a second or third shot.”

“But don’t be discouraged, we have effectively unlimited target
practice ammo, and you have about a month before you should even find yourself at
risk of a lottery selection for a combat team.”

“Thad,” Noreen inquired, “how long before Dillon and I are good
enough to walk around armed with these?”

“I gave them to you, so you will leave this range with them strapped
on, including a second set still in the bag, with belts, holsters, and ten clips
apiece; five long and five standard length.

“The only ammo I brought you is the practice stuff, which can
be deadly depending on where it hits you, even if it breaks apart easily. I’ve worn
our armor and trained against my own people using these rounds. It can be dangerous,
and it stings like hell if hit, but it’s the best practice you can get before you
face the Krall.

“When we finish here you can go to the armory on this level and
get some ‘real bullets’ if you like. Whoever drew the short straw to be the master
at arms today
probably
won’t give you armor piercing, explosive, or incendiary
rounds unless you are going outside, such as for combat, hunting, or scouting.”
Dillon and Noreen noticed he said “probably.”

“Most people load the smaller buck shot rounds for wolfbats and
skeeters that might sneak into the dome. Less collateral damage that way if they
miss or if an accident happens. We could sure use more of those nonlethal Jazzers
or Sonics for that reason. You don’t want to swat a skeeter with a sledge hammer…,”
he considered that comment a moment. “Well for
these
skeeters use a sledge
hammer, but not a cannon,” he amended.

They continued their gun range practice for a couple more hours,
as more people from the Fancy trickled in from time to time.

****

Mirikami came awake as Jake’s voice softly penetrated into his
awareness.

“Captain, it is three hours after dawn. Sir, it is the time I
was asked to awaken you.”

Then a bit louder, but still gentle, “Sir, your First Officer
asked me to let you rest until three hours after dawn. That time has just passed.
Do you wish to have breakfast sent to your room?”

With a bit of a groan, Mirikami rolled over, feeling sore leg
muscles tighten, and a moderate headache throbbed behind his right eye. Jake was
on his third more insistent effort to arouse him when he responded.

“I’m awake, I think. Give me a couple of minutes to get my thoughts
organized.”

He slung his aching legs over the edge of his bed, and used the
null gravity handhold over the headboard to help rise to a sitting position.

“What time did you say it was?” His mind was waking up.

“Do you want ship time from before our landing, or local time,
adjusted for a twenty two point six hour day, divided into twenty four fifty six
and one half minute hours for this world?”

“Ok. I’ll use the local shorter twenty four hour clock, and I
heard you say it was three hours after dawn?”

“The local time is 10:20 AM, with sunrise at 7:20 AM.”

“How did you manage to ‘forget’ to awaken me at dawn, no matter
what clock you were told to use?”

“I did not forget Sir. Your wake up order was countermanded by
Commander Noreen Renaldo, First Officer of the Flight of Fancy, per regula…”

“Stop.” He ordered. Considering how he felt three hours later
than he intended to get up, he wasn’t about to chastise her for her consideration.

Noreen had already laid into him before he went to sleep, about
how he had risked all their lives by risking his health by popping so many pills
to keep going. She was like the daughter he’d never had. The thought actually brought
on a nice feeling about how she had watched out for the “Old Man.”

“Where is Noreen right now?” he asked.

“She and Doctor Martin went to the dome an hour after daylight,
and were intending to meet with Colonel Greeves for weapons training. They requested
this via a Link to Mr. Rigson, who relayed the request for them.”

“Are there any Krall on board us now?”

“No Sir.”

“I had not thought about this before, but when you Link to us
in the dome, you have to use radio signals that leave the ship. I don’t know if
the Krall intend to let us do this. Is the Clanship still parked near us?”

“No Sir, it lifted off six hours and forty one minutes ago, and
appeared to enter orbit.”

“Has a Krall shuttle returned to this compound, possibly bearing
Telour?”

“No Sir, no shuttle has returned.”

“What would we need to do to provide you with video and internal
links inside the dome without use of a broadcast radio signal outside of the ship
or dome?”

“There are two portable repeater modules for extending transducer
range, and they are in storage near my processors. They have not been used since
my activation. They are capable of providing long-range radio links with crewmembers
that remain within five to seven miles transducer range of those units. They have
the ability to connect to a city’s communication grid if you do not want to send
broadcast signals to the repeaters. A fiber optic line into the dome could provide
a non-broadcast Link into the dome. The metal framework of the dome will limit leakage
of their signal. I have had to boost the signal strength slightly to Link to transducers
inside the dome. It is…”

“That’s enough for now.”

He wasn’t sure if the Krall were aware of the signals or cared,
but if they
did
monitor them, even overconfident killers might get curious
as to what was being discussed by their talking animals.

“Are either Mister Rigson or Branson back on board this morning?”

“Yes Sir. Both are in the dispensary.”

“Link me to both.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good morning gentlemen. I hope your wound is healing well Mister
Rigson.”

Both men returned his greeting, and Rigson added, “I’m letting
Cal replace my bandages, and we brought Doctor Naguma back on a hauler pallet just
after dawn, covered with a table cloth. With a missing right hand and two fingers
gone on his left, we were afraid to let him be seen by any Krall.”

“Good idea. I suspect he might be killed on sight. How is he
doing?”

“He’s very depressed and aware of how dangerous his injuries
are if the Krall see him. Besides changing his bandages, I’ve given him an Oxy and
Pep pill combo; to see if that will boost his energy and rev up his system for healing.

“The damn
Primes
that saw him say injured or not, his
name goes into the lottery next month. I can’t understand how they can be so heartless.”
The nickname for the early captives seemed to have stuck, and Rigson used it almost
as a swear word.

Mirikami needed to try to temper that anger. “Mel, some of those
people can seem rather uncompromising and selfish, but we’ve not been faced with
relentless violent death as they were. They’ve had to watch helplessly as friends
or family was randomly selected for certain death every eight days for two, three,
or more years.”

Thinking on that for a moment, Rigson softened his stance. “I
may find myself changing as we face the same pressures, Sir. But I hope our attitude
of ‘fighting-back’ brings some humanity and spirit back to them. They might relearn
that from us.”

“Let’s hope so Mel.” Then to Branson, he asked, “Cal, do we have
anything in the pharmacy that can help me with a headache and body pains, and perhaps
purge me of over dosing on the Oxy and Pep pills yesterday?”

“I think so Sir. We have a couple of hangover remedies that act
fast on many drug and alcohol after effects, and they will clear away the headache.
A mild analgesic should help with leg and body pains.”

“Please have someone send whatever remedy you chose to my cabin,
with a hearty breakfast. I hurt and I’m starved. I can’t recall consuming more than
a couple of sandwiches and lots of fluids yesterday.”

Before he faced Maggi or Noreen again, he wanted to be well fortified.
The Krall were nothing compared to the weight of guilt those two women could lay
on him.

While he waited, he called the Drive Room to see if anybody was
home in the now mostly gutted division. They had no main engines and no Normal Space
drive, no Jump capability, so the fusion bottle was their major item for maintenance,
and it didn’t need much. Then he remembered the two tachyon Traps.

It took a moment for anyone to respond, time Mirikami used to
splash water on his face, leaving the com set on speaker. Chief Haveram answered
after a minute or so, giving the Captain time to dry his face and hands.

“Captain, can I help you Sir?” was his query, when he saw the
call’s origination point.

“Good morning Chief, late though it is. I wasn’t sure I’d find
anyone there. I wanted to find out what was going on. I feel a bit out of touch
while I’m dirstside. I’ll have to get used to that.”

Relieved to hear his Captain’s voice sounding stronger than when
he limped away yesterday, he filled him in on the morning’s activities.

“Captain, me and the three Drive Rats are shifting and sorting
cargo, picking out what we need to send over to the dome, and what stays here. Doctor’s
Fisher, Anderfem, and Martin gave us the numbers of the packets that have the lab
equipment to keep here. Chack and Ricco take over the supplies we plan to share
with the Primes, and we are holding the rest for now.”

“Are any of the passengers coming back yet?”

Before the chief could answer, Jake chimed in so both could hear.

“None are crossing to the ship yet per Doctor Fisher’s request,
to give the crew time to sort supplies and equipment for delivery to the dome, which
requires use of the cargo ramp and haulers. She also said it was because not very
many of the passengers have had the weapons training they need before they receive
a gun from the armory there.”

“Ok. What else do you have for me Chief? Are the Traps still
holding our two giant tacs?”

“Ms. Willfem checked them, and we still have those two monsters.
She said they won’t go anywhere unless we deliberately open the Traps.” That was
because after capturing one of the particles, they furnished the power the Trap
field generators required to keep the fields curved and closed.

The chief added in a dismissive tone, “Not that we can use them
down here in this gravity well to Jump anywhere. I suppose we could use them to
adjust internal gravity, or for power to restart a fusion bottle, if both failed.”

Haveram wasn’t a Jump engineer and had loved his destroyed main
engines more than the untouchable and ephemeral Trap fields and the tachyons they
could capture. These things didn’t seem instinctively ‘real’ to him if he couldn’t
touch or even see them.

Nevertheless, he had an appreciation for how they might help
him with the ‘toys’ he
could
touch and see. “I guess if we had to shut down
or repair the dual fusion systems we could shunt energy from a Trap through the
emitters into a power converter to restart the plasma confinement of a bottle. Without
a second bottle available we’d never get ours restarted otherwise.”

Just then, there was a knock at his cabin door, and he heard
Hanson’s voice outside. “Captain, I have your breakfast Sir.”

Telling the Steward to enter, he finished his conversation, “Chief,
I just had breakfast delivered, I’ll talk to you later.” He disconnected, reaching
for a hot buttered piece of toast.

****

In the dome, Dillon and Noreen were feeling like old time gunslingers,
with two pistols each on their hips. Besides the Krall pistols, Dillon had one of
their rifles slung, muzzle down on his left shoulder, and his Sonic was now rigged
as a shoulder holster at his left armpit. Noreen had her Jazzer’s holster rigged
the same way, but hadn’t wanted a rifle at this time.

Greeves had left them at the third level as he headed back to
his ‘hermit’s’ cave, as he called his quarters. He chuckled as he looked back at
them just before they selected the ground floor. “You look dangerous as hell, but
don’t get overconfident,” he warned. “Kobani creatures aren’t easily impressed.”