Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1) (33 page)

“It’s good to see you again, Admiral.”

“Likewise, Keith. How was Earth?”

Noll shrugged. “Earth was… interesting,” he hesitated. “Good food, weird people, sunny weather… all in all, not a bad assignment.”

As the two men continued to chat, Link glanced around the empty room and leaned over to Lunley.

“Hey Hamish,” he whispered. “Where is everybody? Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t looking for ticker tape or anything, but shouldn’t there at least be a security guard or three around here?”

“Aye, I got that too,” replied Lunley, having also noticed the privacy of their welcome.

“Hello again, Admiral,” Reiser said, stepping forward through the group.

“Dr. Reiser,” said Katahl. “I’m glad to see that your mission appears to have been a success.”

“We hope so, sir. The Mimic project still has a long way to go yet, but we think we’ve found the right people to help us finish the job.”

Then, turning to face the group, Reiser placed a hand on Lee’s shoulder.

“Admiral, please allow me to introduce Dr. Lee Summerston, Miss Evelyn McKinsey, Daniel Tucker, Hamish Lunley, and Lincoln Baxter of the planet Earth. Everyone, this is—”

“Fleet Admiral Markus Katahl,” Lee said, stepping forward. “Head of the Auran Star Corps fleet, commander of the Praetorian, and the chief military advisor to the Auran president himself.”

Not sure how to respond, Katahl stared in bewilderment at the stranger.

“Graduated top of your class from the Academy in ‘67,” Lee continued, “you made sergeant two years later, and you’ve since served aboard the Douglas, the Kanaan, the Cylous, and the Apex, among others. You’ve fought on the ground, most notably with the 63
^rd
Spec-Ops Battalion out of Fort Warner, and in the air, with the 52
^nd
squadron out of Jaylon-orbital 5. You were married for three and a half years, but it didn’t take. You’ve got two kids, both of whom you miss dearly now that they’re away in college, and you prefer Smithson’s aged whiskey, a point which routinely earns you flak from your diplomat friends because it’s so cheap, but you’ve drunk it since basic, and it’s always worked for ya, so why change?”

Momentarily beside himself, Katahl regarded Lee with a blank stare, his brown eyes narrowed with uncertainty over how to respond.

“For god’s sake, Jon,” he grumbled, turning an incredulous eye toward Reiser. “I knew you were planning on using some of our names and likenesses in your simulation, but did you happen to give ‘em my boot size while you were at it?”

Reiser gave him a half-smile. “Sorry, sir, but the whole point was to make the story experience as real as possible. That meant making its characters as real as possible.”

“I guess so,” Katahl snorted, recollecting his composure and turning back to Lee. “Well, your attention to detail is obviously there, so that’s a good start. If your knowledge about our equipment is half as good as your understanding of Auran whiskey—and Dr. Reiser can deliver on the software—then we should be in reasonably good shape.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Lee. “To be honest, none of us knows just how much help we’re actually gonna be, but however much that is, you can rest assured it’ll be the best we have to give ya.”

“I appreciate that” Katahl said, impressed by the stranger’s humility and candor. Then, turning toward the blonde mechanic, he gestured the man forward. “Everyone, this is Lt. Commander Kristofer Wyatt, the Praetorian’s Chief of Flight Deck Operations. For all intents and purposes, he’s Dr. Reiser’s military counterpart on this project. While the doctor was on Earth preparing the software behind the Mimic technology, Chief Wyatt has been busy adapting the actual equipment to interface with it, so you’ll be seeing a lot of him in the weeks ahead.”

“Nice to meet all of you,” Wyatt said in a barely audible voice, and Lee could tell right away by his awkward posture and otherwise quiet demeanor that the chief was not a man of many words.

“Now if you’ll follow me, we’ll get you settled into your quarters,” said Katahl. “After that, there will be a preliminary briefing at 17:30 followed by dinner in the Admiral’s Mess, which you’re all invited to attend. Being completely truthful, I wish we didn’t have to ask you to jump in so quickly, but unfortunately this is the timetable we’ve been dealt.”

Turning to lead the group out of the docking bay, Katahl paused for a moment to address a final point.

“One more thing. I’m not sure exactly what you know about this project, but for reasons that you’ll be briefed on later, we’ve elected to keep its nature restricted to a very small circle of people. So for the time being, as far as anyone knows, you’re all civilian contractors with Reiser Industries, here on a consulting assignment. Is that clear?”

A bit uneasy, each of them nodded their agreement.

“Excellent,” said Katahl. “Well, now that that’s out of the way… welcome aboard the AS-Praetorian.”

****

Following a quick round of “Rock, Paper, Scissors” to see who got top-bunk honors for the next few months—after which Danny breathed a methane-free sigh of relief to have won—the group rejoined Reiser outside their quarters on Deck-14 and took the lift up to the Praetorian’s main briefing room on Deck-5. Stepping off of the elevator, they rounded another narrow corridor to their destination, which, as was now becoming the theme, looked almost identical to the briefing room they’d known so well in the game.

A large stadium-style auditorium, with tall ceilings and 36 rows of black folding chairs, the space was split down the center by carpeted steps that descended to the podium and viewscreen on the floor below. As expected, the podium was again flanked by two flag stands; one presenting the Auran national flag, and the other the banner of the ASC—both capped with a bronze statue of a phoenix.

Taking a seat next to the others down front, Lee turned in time to see Katahl enter the room, trailed closely by Reiser, Reynolds, Noll, Wyatt, and two men he didn’t recognize, though he guessed from the bars on their shoulders that they were probably senior staff.

The briefing’s final attendee, however, Lee knew all too well. Tall and slender, with thick black hair and sharp, stubbly facial features, he was dressed in a navy-blue flight suit and looked to be somewhere in his late30s. Feeling a light jab at his ribs, Lee turned to a visibly excited Mac next to him.

“Holy crap, is that Vince Ryan?” she whispered, watching him take a seat beside Noll in the row across the aisle. “
The
Vince Ryan?”

“Sure does look that way,” Lee whispered back, though before he could say anything else, Admiral Katahl assumed his place at the podium to start the meeting.

“Thank you all for coming,” he began as Reynolds passed around briefing files to everyone in attendance. “Before we get started, I’d like to take a moment to make sure we’ve made all the proper introductions.” He gestured to the row on his left. “Sgt. Major Noll, Chief Wyatt and Doctors Reiser and Reynolds you already know. The man in the glasses is Colonel Dixon, my XO here on the Praetorian, and the gentleman to his right is Major Sapp, here on temporary assignment from the Auran Central Intelligence Bureau. The final man on the end there is Captain Vince Ryan, though you may often hear people refer to him by his call sign, Katana. He’s the Praetorian’s lead pilot and commanding officer of the 51
^st
Air Combat Squadron, known around here as the Hit Squad. Everyone,” he added, gesturing now to his right. “Allow me to introduce Dr. Lee Summerston, Evelyn McKinsey, Daniel Tucker, Hamish Lunley, and Lincoln Baxter.”

Not exactly sure how to respond, they each offered a wave as their names were called.

“By now you all know why you’re here,” the admiral went on. “Dr. Reiser and his staff have developed a new protocol for training our people which, if successful, could have the potential to not only accelerate the training process itself, but also enhance skill levels and aptitude by an enormous margin. As such, this program has therefore been named the Mimic project, and due to a rash of security leaks which we’ve discovered in recent months, it is now the single most classified operation we have on the books.”

Taking a moment to thumb through his file, Katahl looked up to address the five of them directly.

“While technically you are still civilian personnel, the nature of this project will require you to essentially become recruits—faced with the same roles, responsibilities, and expectations that you’d have in conventional basic training. You’ll even be assigned a chain of command. Your immediate superiors you already know—Sgt. Major Noll, who will oversee your ground training, and Captain Ryan, who will serve as your primary flight instructor.” Katahl returned to the file. “On page five you’ll see that your training has been divided into three specific phases with a series of categories in each. After first undergoing a number of medical exams by Dr. Reynolds and her staff, you’ll begin phase one with Dr. Reiser. This will serve as an orientation of sorts to get you familiar with the physical workings of the Mimic suits, which will then be used to bring your bodies into sync with your pre-established mental skills. Once you’re up to speed in the M-suits, you’ll proceed to phase two, part of which will take place on board the ship and part of which will occur planet-side, on-post at Fort Manning. There you’ll undergo the full spectrum of weapons and tactical training, followed by a series of simulated exercises designed to teach you everything from conventional military warfare to close-quarter combat, single-unit tactics, urban warfare, and more. Also, during this phase, every one of you will be assigned an MOS, and it will be your job to master every element of these areas so that, once your team is finally assembled, each of you will serve as vital, individual components of a single, cohesive unit.”

“This is some heavy stuff, bro,” Danny murmured to Lee. “I mean Delta Force heavy.”

“As mentioned,” Katahl continued, “Sgt. Major Noll will serve as your primary CO during the course of this phase, and I can assure you that you’re in very capable hands. In addition to having previously served as a drill instructor at the Auran Military Academy, the sergeant major is one of the finest infantry commanders that this fleet has to offer.”

Noll issued a nod.

“From there,” the admiral continued, “you’ll advance to the third and final phase of this program which, for all intents and purposes, will take you to flight school.”

Lee’s pulse quickened.

“You’ll learn everything you need to know about air combat, from standard fighter ops to aerial strategic development and execution, or ‘dog-fighting,’ as I believe you refer to it. In this area, I can assure you that Captain Ryan is the best in the business. This year marks his fourth tour aboard the Praetorian, three of which have been as LP, and while his natural abilities behind the stick speak for themselves, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that he leads all active pilots in confirmed enemy kills.”

Spotting Ryan’s trademark smile of confidence, Lee guessed that Katahl’s personality hadn’t been the only one to receive an accurate portrayal in the game.

“Each phase will conclude with a mock drill, designed to assess your skill level following each stage of your training,” Katahl added. “After the flight school drill, however, your team will deploy on what we refer to as a Field Training Exercise, or FTX. This, ladies and gentlemen, is your final exam, and it’s where we’ll find out just how far you, and the technology, have come.” Pausing to make his point, Katahl took a moment to look each of them in the eye. “The FTX is a four-day, comprehensive evaluation that’ll test every element of your training, from the basics of clearing a room to advanced aerial combat. It’ll take place in both the planetary and orbital theaters, thus consisting of ground and aerial operations—all of which will require careful planning and execution on your part, as you’ll have no support whatsoever post-deployment. In other words, folks,” he emphasized, “you’ll be completely on your own after your initial drop. Providing that you successfully complete the FTX mission, and achieve your objective, you will graduate the program and return home.”

Closing the folder and stepping away from the podium toward them, the admiral’s expression shifted to one of caution with his next statement.

“I won’t lie to you,” he prefaced, “this is not going to be fun and games, and it most certainly won’t be easy. As I said earlier, we plan to treat you like any other recruits. That means a lot of late hours, a lot of hard work, and to be sure… a fair amount of pain and discomfort. With all of that said, don’t think for an instant that it’s lost on us that you’re not military. Add in the fact that you’ll be working with experimental equipment that’s never been used before, and there are bound to be unforeseen issues that will require tweaking along the way. So if you need anything, or something simply doesn’t feel right, don’t hesitate to ask Dr. Reiser, one of your COs, or even myself for help.”

In line with Katahl’s request, Lee raised his hand. “With respect, Admiral, we all appreciate that you folks are here to help us and all, and I’m sure we’ll be takin’ you up on your offer soon enough. But we’re also well aware that time is of the essence here. So while we may not be military, we’re not lookin’ for anybody to pull any punches, either.”

Across the aisle, Ryan leaned into Noll. “Well, they’ve got spirit, at least,” he muttered.

“If only they had common sense,” Noll muttered back, seemingly annoyed by the statement.

Having heard the exchange, Lee wondered if that was on account of his team, or some classic military beef between commissioned and non-commissioned officers.

“I appreciate your candor, Dr. Summerston,” said Katahl. “But you can bet that we
will
push you further than you ever thought you could go. Still, much of this program’s success will depend on your ability to communicate and give feedback about how the equipment is functioning so that Dr. Reiser and his team can make the proper adjustments.”

Just then, a young female aide entered the room and rushed down the steps to whisper something to the admiral.