U.S.C. RODOMONT

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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

And the shoe drops...

FIFTY-SIX

Posnar looked up as Captain Postain stepped quickly into his allocated office on the small planet and greeted him. He’d been the liaison officer assigned for the last few days and was getting quite used to the alien going exactly wherever he wanted, whether under guard or not. So he pardoned the guards who trailed the… Canaan? Something like that. Anyhow, he pardoned them and bade Postain sit. “I’d rather stay standing,” the Captain replied. This was another thing he’d gotten used to. The Captain never sat unless he had to or he was the one holding court.

“Right,” he replied. “This must be important. What’s the urgency?”

“My bridge crew has been keeping an eye and ear on ship movements in close orbit since we got here,” Postain confided. “According to them, there’s been a dozen ships around at any point, forever warping in and out to confuse numbers, correct?”

Posnar shrugged slightly. There was no real point in denying it. It was a standing operative tactic, he assumed. “There’s never less than eight in orbit, just in case of trouble.”

Postain nodded grimly. “There’s currently five and has been for the last fifteen minutes,” he announced.

Posnar’s face dropped. “What,” he breathed. His hands flew to the keyboard and monitor on his desk and he activated the monitor. His jaw dropped. “What the..?”


“Did you have fun with the writer,” Martin asked as he and Enzo tidied up the towels in the bay, putting them into the closets along the one wall before shutting them and moving on to the more important medical equipment that had just been sent up from the replication site.

“Yeah, it was fun,” Enzo replied, looking up – slightly – at the Mican. “He’s pretty gullible for a Celican,” he continued. “And not that good at hunting.”

“Who was he hunting?”

“Doctan Tyla,” Palla said from her bed. “Probably.”

Martin looked over to his patient. Kohlich was up in the main medical bay with Cobalt so she was the only one currently nestled here. She’d said it was because she hadn’t felt like going for a ride in the chair but Martin was pretty sure it was the third wheel she was trying to avoid being. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” he told her.

“Not… easy to do now,” she confided. “I get Jestavanian radio here,” She took a wired earphone out. “Propaganda but lots… of familiar names.”

“She’s right,” Enzo cut in, “Uh, about it being Miss Kira…”

“Mz,” Palla corrected, shifting around onto her elbow to look over at them. “If being formal,” she advised, “it’s Doctan Tyla. If informal, it’s Mz Kira.” A stiff smile, showing a pencil thin glimpse of battered teeth behind the thickening lips.

“O.K,” Enzo shrugged. The more you knew. “Anyway, she, um, knew? And didn’t let on? But I heard her tell Commander Xarra. We spent ages in cargo bay two when they were loading up medical stuff.”

“It does take time to load things,” Martin contributed, dialling up soft drinks for the three of them.

Enzo’s ears pricked up as the boy remembered something. “Oh!” He fished around in his trouser pockets and pulled a small, round, object out. “There was a few moments,” he confessed, “when Miss… uh, Mz Kira was talking to the one and the other one put this on one of the shelves at the back? I, uh, picked it up when Mr Caldan wasn’t looking in case it was…” He trailed off. “...worth something?”

“I doubt it,” Martin said absently before realising what Enzo was talking about. “Let me see that.” He took hold of the circular object with its lightly glowing red centre. “What is it, I wonder?”

“Bring that here,” Palla instructed. Fearing the worst from her tone, Martin took the object over to the Jestavanian and she took it in a shaky hand. “Oh, no…”

“What,” Martin asked.

“I need to speak with Xarra or your Cadan,” she stated, sitting up so the sheets fell down and Enzo could see she wasn’t wearing anything on her top half. For her discretion he looked a way. Three times.


Posnar looked up at Postain after he read the emergency reports from the divisional command. “Why wasn’t I..? Right, right, I’m not sector Command…” He mused slightly. “It seems the Ikaerian Nebula has sent an assault fleet to attack one of our manufacturing bases on a planet about ten light years from here. It’s about thirty ships. So they’ve sent our ships to back up the forces already stationed there. They’ll be gone a short while. As we’re defended and no signals can escape the jammers in the atmosphere unless on a command frequency, the danger is minimal.” He nodded grimly. “It’s been a while since they launched a major strike like this,” he admitted with a grimace. “I wonder what they’re up to?”

“I’d think it suspicious,” Postain growled.

“That you’re here when it happened.” A shake. “I agree. I don’t know if I can convince them of that. But our security…” He threw his hands up. “There’s no way they could find out where you are. As I said, no transmissions can get past the jammers and no-one’s allowed to leave the planet…”

At that point, Yarkin knocked.

“Enter,” the two Commanding Officers said simultaneously.

“Habit,” Postain said, without apologising.


The Feline entered and stood to attention for a few seconds before relaxing. “Xarra’s just been on the comm,” she told them. “Apparently the writer and young Enzo Carvalho followed the Doctan and the two Jestavanians from here who were helping her stock the ship with medical supplies for Karrin…”

“Oh, no…” Posnar moaned, feeling he knew where this was going. The Councillor must have cleared them to assist…

“Enzo saw them plant something in the cargo bay when Tyla’s back was turned. He took it. When he showed it to Doctor Jul, one of the Jestavanians in the medical bay recognised it as a homing beacon. She’s deactivated it but it was active for at least an hour…”

“Get back to your ship, Captain,” Posnar snapped. “Take your crew! They know where we are!”


As Postain and Yarkin ran and assembled their people via comms, Posnar started putting the base on attack alert.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

You knew that it was gonna drop sometime so it dropped here.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FIFTY-SEVEN


Xarra looked up as the Captain strode purposefully onto the bridge and around to his chair. “Welcome back, sir,” she said simply as he settled into the altar of command and nodded to her.

“Sound Battle stations,” he ordered and Xarra repeated the order to Maldak, who sounded it through the ship. “The device the alien in medbay recognised is a homing beacon,” he told his first as the alarm ceased, leaving just the red stripe on the wall to indicate the state of alert. “The jammers on the planetoid stop them transmitting from the surface and the transfers to the ships are always guarded completely. We became their way of getting the word on the location of this planetoid out to the Nebulan forces. And, now, half of them have been pulled away to an emergency. The Nebula could be here imminently.”

“Didn’t Posnar realise the trick?”

“Posnar’s not sector command,” Postain reminded her. “They don’t have to consult him on matters of fleet dispersal. He’s as angry about it as I am. Repairs?”

“Our chip supply has back ups, uh, back up to seventy percent. The storage bay allocated to Doctan Tyla – which has been scanned and physically checked – is at capacity on medical supplies and Flakk reports he’s replaced half the stuff he’s used on this trip.”

Postain nodded. “The base has, apparently, replaced half of the munitions they’ve been supplying to other colonies.”

Xarra quirked an eye ridge. “Munitions,” she asked curiously.

“Rail cannon shells,” Postain told her. “Simple and almost impossible for a ship’s shields to block a two meter shard coming straight at it at almost six hundred kilometres a minute.”

Xarra conceded that. “Ship’d have to keep moving and that’d interfere with targetting.”

“Means WE’RE going to have to keep out of their way, right, Bartleby?”

The Rabbit’s ear turned around quickly to try and give the impression she’d not been listening in intently. She turned around. “Absolutely, sir. Any idea where the launch platforms are?”

“The satellites. Keep your ears open.”

She nodded sagely. “And my eyes wide,” she replied, finishing off the standard Lappinean greeting.


Darren wondered who was trying to kill them now although, he supposed, he could probably guess that they looked like Brockians gone wrong. He finished up the work he was doing on analysing anomalies and started shutting the system off. He turned around as the screen blanked and stopped for a second as he saw Kerri leaning on the doorway. “Notdoinganymoreheroics,” she gabbled, making her lover wonder if she was out of breath after running from the shuttle bay or something. He stepped across and swung her up into an embrace, complete with a deep and passionate kiss. The sort that got other scientists snickering as they saw the passion play out for all to see. “No,” he said, eventually pulling back for breath,” nothing planned.” A peck kiss. “I missed you,” he told her.

“Iwasonly gonetwo days,” she practically purred, still holding his shoulders as he carried her. “GoodjobI’m not goingaway forafortnight!”

“I’d never last,” Darren laughed. “Isn’t there a panic going on,” he asked, suddenly recalling that there was, in fact, a panic going on.

“Yup. Yougoingto carryme tothesafe zone? Chief’sdesignated measmaintenanceofficer for itcause I’vebeen workingso hard!”

“Too hard to walk,” Darren asked cheekily, letting her down but taking her hand as they headed for the safe zone.


Hadrian didn’t need to call out orders to the security staff as they moved about their business. They knew their jobs and where to position themselves against attack. The ones guarding critical systems were readying their battle armour before relieving the ones currently holding the positions to act as floaters, ready to back up wherever needed backing up and fighting running battles in the corridors. And, of course, Chief Yarkin was back to supervise so he was escorting his extravagantly frocked wife to a secure zone for her safety. “Of course,” he told her subtly, “if you took the dress off, you could get an extra person in the safe zone…”

“You just want a look at my flank,” Simone cut back, before bopping him on the nose with a finger claw. “That’s naughty, Hadrian. You’d get me arrested for indecency!”

He chuckled, thinking on that. “Can you be indecent with me later?”

She stopped for a moment. Swallowed. “Depends on how many pieces you come home in, love. Any more than one? No nookie for you.” She tapped his nose again.

He took her hand and kissed the padded part. “One piece is all I hope for,” he said playfully.

She smirked. “So I see.” She pointed upwards. “You’ll never get through doors with those,” she goaded. Hadrian laughed and pulled the antlers down a bit.


“But I want to help you in here,” Enzo protested as Martin pushed him out of the medical bay, along with Palla, who was likewise protesting that she could be of some use.

“Your mom would have my guts for garters… whatever they are,” Martin replied. “So it’s not happening. As it stands, you’re my number one priority, Enzo. Well, equal with Palla here. You’re my charges. I’m responsible… and YOU,” he added, talking to Palla, “can barely get out of bed! You’re going in with Nurse Laskey here,” he added, indicating the Feline pushing her. “You,” he said, returning to Enzo, “are going to assist her, right? Medical intern.” He took the pin off his own jacket and put it on Enzo’s shirt. “Official, now.”

Enzo swallowed hard as he understood the prestige of the moment. Then he frowned. “Now you haven’t got a badge!”

“Ah,” Jul said theatrically, pulling at his lapels, “but I’ve got the coat, haven’t I?”

“And everyone… knows you’re… a Doctan,” Palla managed.

Martin pointed to her. “She gets it.” He stopped outside the nearest safe zone and pushed Enzo into the enclosure as a guard assisted the Nurse with the bed. He had a feeling Kohlich was in the safe zone closer to medbay one, at least he presumed Kelly had stashed him in a safe zone. And not in her quarters? He gave a small, mental, smile to the thought as he hurried back to his area of command.


“Picking up incoming,” Maldak warned, making the command pair turn to her. “Fifteen minutes out,” she added, holding the earpiece in. “Uh… About ten ships, I think.”

Postain gritted his teeth. “This is going to be interesting,” he said quietly. “Launch fighters. Take defensive positions.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This was definitely an interesting chapter! Am VERY interested in what happens next. ;)
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

FIFTY-EIGHT

“Just a thought,” Xarra said with consideration. “Jul’s still got that signal thing. They know it’s planted on us…”

“What about it?”

“Well,” she extrapolated, “What if it was still signalling? But from somewhere else?”

“It’s likely they’d never believe it, Hilla,” Postain cut back. “But, they might consider we’d moved outside the jamming area and we were trying to hide, perhaps… They might divert someone out of position to check. You get the Pirate to get the device out there. I’ll tell Posnar.”

“Why so?”

“So he doesn’t shoot her out of the stars.”

“Of course.”


Senny doubled back as she was heading to the hologram room. The message had gotten through to her and she needed to get to the secondary bay and the prodigy’s office quick. She took to running and hated it. She wasn’t built for speed out of the water, her heavy fur and powerful muscles slowing her slightly against the other species. She’d never win in a sprint, she felt. But let those same sprinters try to take her on in the water. Hah! She pulled herself straight as she got to Jul’s kingdom and walked in as the Mican was checking supplies. “Here for the thing,” she said, as though that would explain everything.”

“What thing?”

“The, uh, transmitter thing? Command want me to use it as a distraction.”

Jul looked up and frowned. “How? It’s turned off.”

“Turn it on again.”

“Oh. Of course.” The Mican headed over to his office and opened a drawer in his desk to take the object out. “Here it is. I have no clue how to turn it on.” He tapped it with a pointing rod as he thought. “One moment.” He turned his comm on. “Doctor Jul to Nurse Laskey, are you receiving me?”

After a moment, the Feline answered. <”Laskey here.”>

“I need you to ask Palla something,” Martin told her. “We’re doing something with that transmitter she found. We need to know how to turn it back on. Can you ask her?”

Silence after a reply. Then a new voice, scratchy and unsure, came on the line. With the audio part in an earpiece, she couldn’t hear Jul but it cut out interference. For Jul’s part he’d put his comm on speaker so Senny could hear it. After all, it was her going to be doing it. The jestavanian, taking pauses for breath and strength, talked the Castoran through the five steps to reactivation – without activating the self destruct (which she may have been joking about). The lights started flickering on the device. “Thanks, Palla,” Senny said. Martin repeated it.

<”You’re wel...welcome,”> Palla replied. <”I live… here too(!)”>


Senny climbed into the shuttle and ignored standard take off checks as, quite frankly, she didn’t have time to do them properly anyhow. She tapped the communications system on the console. “Senny to Maldak,” she said. “Patch me to the fighter bay, would you?” She pulled on her seat restraints as the Quokkan tied her in and confirmed it. “This is Senny. I’m not going to be with you at the start of this fight,” she told them. “I’ve been given a quick mission to take on so I’ll be doing that. You’re good enough to handle what these people can throw at you – at least for a few minutes…” She paused, hoping they were chuckling slightly at that. “and I’ll be back in the saddle as soon as possible. Senny Appleby out.” She turned the comm off and launched.


She watched as the viewscreen faded from the brightness of the ship to the tinged brightness of the space beyond. Metal monstrosities flecked the nearest celestial bodies, growing larger and smaller in equal measures as she travelled away from some and closer to others. She could feel some of the automated platforms start to track her and thought about the urgent commands being sent from armchair warriors that they shouldn’t pop this particular bubble. She closed off the main section of the shuttle from the bridge.


“Tracking beacon has left the ship,” Maldak reported, only knowing Senny had departed by the ping on her screen.

“Acknowledged,” Postain remarked smartly. “How is it you didn’t spot that signal earlier, Maldak?”

“I wasn’t actually listening on that frequency, sir,” Maldak protested. “I try to listen to them all but I wasn’t actually thinking we’d be sending a signal so I…”

“Fair enough, Maldak,” Postain said placatingly. “You sometimes say that something will get past you. Today was that day.” his tone got a little sterner. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again tomorrow.”

“Aye… Aye, sir.”

Xarra gave Postain an approving glance. His one accepted that and told her not to say a word about it. She understood that one.


The grey, airless moon loomed large in Sennys’ view as she moved into high orbit around it. With her sensors patched into the Rodomonts, she could see the incoming armada was about ten minutes away at their current speed. She’d already been briefed that the missing Star Council ships wouldn’t get back for at least a half hour. With a force this size, she reckoned, that might just be enough time to come back and realise you’re defending a blasted world. They had to fight to hold the line long enough. Drawing some out of position to ambush a ‘ship’ that was ‘obviously’ planning to ambush you? Might slow them down. She checked the seal on the cockpit door was working and opened the rear door by pressing a button.


The ship thumped hard as the rear compartment decompressed. Senny watched as everything blasted free and hoped the seals would hold as even the rear door buckled. There it went, she told herself, as the transmitter passed into the void. She pushed the starboard thruster to a quarter power to turn the shuttle around and headed back towards the barn. She wasn’t going to get to her station before they arrived. That she was sure about.
Last edited by Welsh Halfwit on Mon May 30, 2022 1:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This is a really interesting chapter once again! Keep up the good work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

One of my 'speech free' chapters.

FIFTY-NINE

From her established orders, Helana Bartleby knew to keep the ship towards the rear of the flotilla, out of the way of where they believed the attack was coming. She’d wondered why they hadn’t run from the fight but she supposed they’d be looking for something like that. During the prey wars, it had become a known tactic to have ships planted along the possible escape routes during a major attack. It was done in case back up was needed and, if a wounded ship ran, ships didn’t need to break off and chase them. Both sides had used it and her grandmother had told of using the tactic to ambush a Celican ship escaping a military station. After she’d passed, Bartleby had looked up the incident. It had been from a military base, sure. But that had been the only thing military about it. That was when she’d decided to join the U.S.C., not the Lappinean forces. The worst thing about War crimes was discovering your own side carried them out. It was better to fight to try to prevent war, as oxymoronic and counter-intuitive as that was. It was also why she wasn’t getting the Doctors here to look into her biological make-up. She knew there was something in her make-up that enabled her to eat meat but finding out might hint at who needed to be removed from her family history. Not something she wanted to do.

Backing away was the Captain feigning ‘keeping out’ of the fight, despite powering up the weapons and the shields and everything else that goes with them. They were still playing at being neutral and would only fire at those who shot at them, although all the ships transponders had been logged into ship systems as ‘friendly’ and would, therefore, warn the gunners if they were about to shoot a friendly. So the computer had been programmed to take sides, even if they hadn’t.

Bartleby really fancied a sandwich. It was an odd thing but, whenever it came to battles, she always found herself thinking of foods she’d not tried during the build up. Today it was a Kalva sandwich, made from a beast found on the Canine worlds. They seemed to like it. She’d never tried it.

There’s the shuttle, she told herself. About five minutes out at best speed. And the others were going to arrive in just over three. It was going to be close and, with any other pilot than Senny Appleby, she would have been utterly concerned but the Castoran seemed to have the skills needed to outfly a Starlancer with a shuttle. She could probably land that thing safely upside down whilst both ships were going at maximum thrust. Could she send one of the bridge runners to get her a sandwich? No, that was silly thinking. Two and a half minutes now. Was that her stomach? She apologised to the bridge and wondered why they looked confused. Hadn’t they heard that Lapasquake? A glance from the weapons officer told her he’d heard it. Shame she had a boyfriend, really. She’d be quite into the guy if she wasn’t already quite into a Lappinean from Engineering. But the grin passed. Back to duty. Was her jacket pinching her fur? She hated the ‘velcro’ effect, as some Human had called it. Where the fabric gripped onto a single hair or fur follicle and pulled. She pulled it free and felt the slight snap as the follicle broke free. Two minutes. Senny was still coming. So were the others.

Hang on, she told herself, two of the incoming armada were breaking off, heading for the moon where Senny had just dropped the beacon. Had it worked? Must have done. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted one of the stationary defence platforms had shifted to cover the section of space the trio would now be coming from as she heard Maldak beat her to the punch and tell where the ships were headed. Mind you, Maldak also added that the incoming lot were blocking all communications and she’d not known that. She heard the Captain order Riltan the weapons Officer to add that to his computations and knew from his finger movements that he’d been doing that five seconds before he’d been ordered to anyhow. He still replied in the affirmative. She wondered if he’d been thinking about sandwiches. Stop it, she told herself.

What was manoeuvre Postain fourteen, she asked herself. She couldn’t remember for a second, then recalled it involved the port thruster firing and the starboard positioning thruster firing the ship over, around its side and was usually corrected by plan Postain thirteen. Or, as she had them pre-set, button 1,3,5 followed by 1,2,4. It really was just a matter of remembering the numbers. Which was why they were on her padd, next to her console. Just in case. Xarra’s battle orders were stored on a different page. She readied the usual start move, Postain three so she only needed to use the last two digits. Her foot itched. She rubbed the arch against her other leg. The itch died. For about a second. That was going to get annoying. Well, sort of annoying. It was going to slip her mind in a moment.

She wondered what her father would think of her job now? He’d probably tell her to wonder what she was doing protecting other races and she wasn’t quite sure she had an answer to that. She couldn’t always just fall back on the notion that it was just the right thing to do. It WAS but it was hard to back it up. Her mother would be quite happy, though. She was getting out and about and had a decent looking boyfriend and a career. One minute. Senny was… four minutes out? What? Oh, she’d diverted slightly to get out of the defence stations firing line. The other ships were shifting into battle positions, ready to fight. She had to keep the ship in a defensive station but enquired if she should move closer to the other ships? Apparently not, she was told. Keep station. That’s what she had to do as the fighters scrambled. It was smarter to have them scramble now, rather than when the enemy arrived. It made… oh, hello.


Outside, the enemy fleet arrived, battering their way into normal space in two locations. Most were directly ahead of the fleet, coming in fast, and the other two were headed for the beacon. The firing began almost immediately, scragging lines through space in both directions as the satellite weapon system closest to them started firing on the trio sucked in by Senny. The pilot jerked out of the way of the incoming fire and started her final approach as Bartleby noted one ship coming their way. Postain told Maldak to remind the incoming that they were neutral but would defend themselves if attacked. Maldak replied that they weren’t listening. Bartleby heard Postain order her to enact Postain three. She pressed two buttons and the ship began to move towards the enemy...
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

The speeches in the stories really do take up a lot of the chapter! So glad we got one without them in it!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTY


Postain watched as the arrow like projectiles launched forward from the defence satellite and streamed towards one of the ships that had come out into normal space close to the dropped beacon and knew what would come next. The projectiles would pound away at a precise point on the shielding repeatedly and rapidly, boring a hole in the defensive energy field before impacting the hull at significant velocity, penetrating several levels and bulkheads before running out of speed, voiding atmosphere and straining the repair circuits on board ship until the damage was considered too much and explosions occurred aboard. It was one of the things Posnar had told him about when he’d asked why the replication system was churning out ammunition by the hundreds yesterday. He saw the positives, it being effective at long range in space, but he also saw the downside. To ensure the effectiveness, they needed to launch hundreds every minute so it wasn’t going to take long before they ran out. Three minutes at most. Then the platforms were down to their focussed energy weapons. And those only had the same range as the Nebulan weapons. He noted they were having the expected effect, though. The other group, the main assault, were having to shift out of their standard attack vectors immediately to avoid damage, giving the overwhelmed defenders a chance to take the offensive.


Senny jinked around through her own fighter pilots to get in behind the ship and slam on the breaks to turn towards the shuttle bay. “Katz,” she told the human fighter pilot as Maldak patched her through, “your job here’s to defend the ship as alpha priority. Only after they open fire on us are you to engage the enemy and then only the ones that fire on us. Do not engage any other targets without authority from myself or the bridge. Do you receive?”

<”Ten four, Wing Commander.”>

<”Other than the rank,”> another voice cut into the conversation, a voice both recognised as Postains, <”I concur with everything stated in this discussion. Get aboard, Appleby; we can’t secure the bay until you do.”>

“Uh,” Senny swallowed, “Wilco, Captain.” She fought to keep just slightly above the ship’s speed without going too fast or she’d smack into the interior bulkhead. Nothing in life was easy, she supposed, crossing the threshold into the bay and slowing to match speed as fast as she could. She spun the shuttle around using positioning thrusters so the main forward thrusters were now pushing her away from the wall and gently lowered the ship to the surface with a thump. “Shuttle landed,” she told the bridge, “headed to the hologram room now.”

<”Acknowledged, ‘Wing Commander’,”> Postain grumbled. Senny grinned to herself at the compliment – obviously sent after Maldak had cut the fighter pilots from the call – and put her thick muscles to the test again.


Thoughts of food had left Bartleby now that the fight had begun. One of the opponent ships had fallen off her screens under the assault from the satellites but the other was moving towards the main fight now; as the Council ships launched their torpedoes. “They must be hoping the Nebulan lot are as low on resources as they’ve been,” she muttered as the torpedoes did their vanishing/reappearing trick close to the opposition. Thirteen targets and thirty torpedoes. She had to admit the light effect was spectacular but it didn’t seem as though their power had stopped any of the ships as they were firing back.

“Anyone moving on our position,” Xarra asked.

“Checking,” Bartleby replied, looking over her system for a second. “Confirmed,” she said. “Looks like one’s coming to take a look.”

“On screen,” Postain ordered. Bartleby complied and brought up the visage of a sleek fighting vessel with weapons ready, swooping past the firstt line of defence and definitely heading their way.

“Captain,” Maldak put in, “identification signal is known to us. It’s the…”

“...Tibri,” Postain interrupted, activating his seat restraints. He glowered at the screen. “Cadan Tikrit’s back to play with us. Are we still unable to hail ships?”

Maldak checked and nodded. “They’re still jamming us, sir.”

“Then we can’t tell them we’re not part of this. Sound Battle stations. Tell the fighters not to engage first but be ready…”

Maldak relayed the instructions across the ship as the alerts sounded the ‘combat imminent’ warning.


Caldan Ravel looked around at the faces in the secure zone he’d found himself trapped in with the novice director and took in the worry and fear he saw in the eyes of those around. Scientists. Teachers and the pupils they’d been looking after whilst their parents worked. A couple of gym type muscle heads. A pair of nurses (including one he recalled Chief Yarkin interrogating) and a security guard he’d not met before with Carkha the dictator director representing Engineering. There was a general murmur of discontent and panic that the limited resources couldn’t do anything to ease. They were milling, worried. He considered that most of them probably had people who weren’t here. They were out there. Fighting or getting ready to fight. He swallowed as he glanced down at a Pregnant Vixen who might never hold her baby if things went badly. The father might not ever hold it if things went well. He put his notepad away and really looked at the faces of everyone. There had to be something… He nudged the arm of the director. “You ever done any improv theatre,” he asked.

“Not recently,” Carkha replied, “and is this really the time?”

“Can you think of a better one,” Caldan asked as a shot hit the ship shields.


“Without even a ‘hello’,” Xarra complained as the fight began.

“He’s an arrogant sort,” Postain told her. “For that he’s going to have to answer.” He watched as the Rodomont fighters took the lead in their defence of home and the satellite ran out of ammunition dealing with the second ship tricked by the drone. He watched as the Tibri launched her own defence fighters to attack. “We have been fired on. All weapons? Return fire.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Gonna be interesting to see how they turn this out. Nice writing!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTY-ONE

Flight Officer Katz led the squadron of fighters towards the larger, attacking craft. He got the idea of ‘staying neutral’ but this...git had broken that line first. He was endangering all the people Katz cared about and cared for. Now she’d have to deal with him and his allies in flight. Did this thing have fighters of her own? There were certainly things launching towards them and… drones! He twisted aside, scorching past one of the devices as it passed by. Flight Three was hit, he saw. “They’ve launched drones,” he told the others on the comms.


”Then hold them off,” Senny said, a little out of breath as she spoke from inside the hologram projection room. She had her hands on her knees but the starscape was forming around her and her console appeared on the floor, seemingly floating in the ether. “We’ll scan for the antennae here and I’ll forward the details to you. As for now, concentrate on the little fish and leave the big git to us. Drone’s doesn’t mean pilotless. I doubt they’ve made these things computer controlled. We’ve seen no sign of that capability. You’re still better than them but they’ll be able to handle greater g forces… Pantree, switchback! Now!” She watched as Alpha 9 jinked slightly to the starboard side, then turned tight to port so a chasing drone lost her for a few seconds, time in which Katz opened fire and destroyed the vessel. “Nice shot, Katz. Watch your own flank,” she added as the Human twisted aside to avoid another attack. “Senny to Maldak,” she said aloud, tapping her comm.


“What’s… uff… up, Mrs Appleby,” the Quokkan on bridge duties asked as the Tibri fired again, slamming energy into the defensive wall the Rodomont had in place.

<”The enemy has launched automatic drones. Can you trace the antennae controlling them and knock them out?”>

“Doubtful,” Maldak admitted unhappily. “They’re probably placed all over the hull. Might be able to put out our own jamming signal, though. I’ll… oof, need to get Whilmot involved.”

<”Quick as possible, please.”> Maldak heard Senny cut the line and dialled up Whilmot to relay the needs of ‘the few’ to him as she worked on doing what she could to blank out frequencies in the area without, of course, cutting off their own communications. Whilmot might be able to get into the signal and disrupt the control from inside the drones. Or something like that.


“Watch the drift, Bartleby,” Postain warned as the Lappinean corrected a half degree turn so the main weapons could get a better aim on the side of the Tibri, an invitation that the gunnery officer next to her didn’t need to be given twice. Riltan had grimaced happily as he sent cascades of energy back at the dratted ship that was trying to kill them. It just hadn’t been neighbourly of them to do that, had it? Outside, the weapons satellite had engaged its laser on the incoming ship but the thing lacked power. It looked like it was barely making an impact on the shielding but it was distracting some of the attention. The lights above her station flickered as Riltan fired again, his shots slapping the opposition shields as theirs did likewise. Sometimes shots went through as the shields dropped under computer control for a half second but it wasn’t as often as hacks made out that it was the main ship that did it. It was the rapid firing fighter craft that had more luck there, she reckoned. They needed to stop those drones so their fighters could roll the dice, she mused, willing Riltan to fire again.


Whilmot rushed from console to console, typing quickly as they all scanned a different section of the electro-magnetic spectrum. The Lemurian fervently wished he hadn’t seen it that his entire staff should get to one of the safe zones, leaving him managing things here alone. Who’d known they’d have drones? He figured it should probably have come up over the last few days but hindsight was twenty twenty, he reckoned. Or twenty-twenty-twenty if you had a prehensile tail. He was certain it was somewhere in the high UV bandwidth but, with their jamming effect in play, it was like trying to poke holes in a bag with another bag whilst blindfolded. But he was quite good at playing such odds. He prided himself on it.


“O.K.,” Senny mused, “I think help’s going to be a long time coming from Maldak and Whilmot so you’re gonna have to figure this out yourself, Senny.” She closed her eyes for a second in thought before re-opening them. “O.K., what’s the clue,” she continued as the satellite fired a holographic bolt through her head and out the other side to splash ineffectively on the Tibri’s shields. “Glad the safeties are on,” she grumbled. Alpha 4’s light went out. She hit the comm. “Tighten up, guys,” she told them. “We’re going to sort out this problem and…” She paused as another shot flashed from the satellite. “You can’t penetrate the shields, you stupid satellite so why are you..?” She frowned. “Why ARE you trying?” She played back the last few minutes at speed and pointed. “You’re firing on the same point every time.” A sharp nail pointed at a location on the Tibri and the exact co-ordinates on the ship appeared in the room and on the helmets of the fighter pilots. “The platform’s been trying to tell us where to shoot,” she said excitedly, copying the bridge in on the message. “Hit that point with everything you can!”


“Move us on that position, Bartleby,” Postain ordered. “Attack pattern Postain One.”

“Aye, sir,” the tortie replied, as the starboard weapons opened up, trying to avoid the fighters as they fired on the precise point indicated.

“I don’t like those weapons ports,” Xarra mused, indicating two ports to either side of what appeared to be the main cannons.

“They’ve not used them yet,” Postain remarked.

“Hope they don’t get the chance,” Xarra responded as the two closed on each other. Kridd reported the Rodomont’s shields were down to fifty percent and he was routing power to them. Postain wondered what the other ships shields were down to. He hoped it was less than fifty percent.

“Their… uh, their shields are dropping,” Kridd said uncertainly. “From what I can see, that is.”

“Fire at will,” Postain stipulated.

“Uh, oh,” Kridd said with certainty. “Those weapons ports are powering up,” he added.


The power blazed across the Rodomonts screens, whiting things out for several seconds before fading. Kridd looked at his board in alarm. “Our shields have dropped,” he called. “No power’s getting to them!”

“Weapons either,” Riltan complained. “It’s like it sucked the power out of essential systems.”

“Then why haven’t they fired,” Postain asked, watching the ship through the hazing viewscreen.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Ooooh so now we have a new mystery about to be revealed! Can't wait to see what the answer is!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTY-TWO

Chief Harra was demonstrating why so many USC ships had Equinna in senior engineering positions as he reacted to the sudden power drain. He figured out what had caused it. Some sections had small compartments that shielded against EMP effects so things like emergency medical supplies would still have power but the power core itself was WAY too big for that. He opened the manual access port in the darkness. He knew where everything lay in his engine room and people knew to stay out of his way. Air circulation had shut down in everywhere that wasn’t shielded like the safe zones so things would get stale soon as he grabbed the tertiary generator from its stored location and strained his mighty muscles to pull it into place. The thing was a desperation move that was sometimes employed and was a variation on an old trick, where a petrol generator was connected up to start the auto recharge power systems. Once it was running at five percent, the system could artificially replicate its own power but it needed to get to five percent first. With the new design shielded generator, the five percent was immediate. It just needed to connect. Harra heard Corncob complain about the budget that prevented them shielding the entire engine room and chuckled in the darkness as his hand connected up the device like it was normal shiplights, not the near pitch red lighting. The room brightened slightly as the power transferred. It’d build from now, he told himself. Possibly slowly… He staggered as something hit the hull straight on. Possibly too late. He staggered back to his position and decided where he was going to need to send energy first. Shields? Weapons? Life support? Comms? Sensors? Five minutes. Five minutes for full power.


The picture stayed fuzzy. Postain wondered if it was just an after image now. Well, he told himself as one of Senny’s fighters flitted by, firing on the opposition, that theory’s for the birds. And since when were they HER fighters? They were HIS fighters, she was just helping out! “Is it possible,” he heard Xarra ask, “that whatever weapon they fired drained their systems too?”

He looked back around at her as the air system hiccuped back into staccato life. “Some weapons do that but only for a minute,” he admitted. “On older ships. Guess who had such a weapon?”

“The Fauntleroy?”

“Hmm. Hoist with our own petard, perhaps.” He nodded towards the screen. “I just hope our power comes back before theirs does.”

“Some sensors returning, sir,” Kridd said as the sensors started rebooting. The Feline hesitated as he felt something. A static charge in the… “Incoming teleports,” he warned, swivelling to pull his claws out as Jestavanians teleported onto the bridge. His curved digits swept across an unarmoured cheek, ripping it from muzzletip to neck before the figure backhanded him away, onto the console. Postain pulled his weapon and fired. It didn’t engage so the Captain charged the closest as the one that had assaulted Kridd pulled his own weapon, only to be shot down from behind as the armourer fired the sidearm taken from the fallen space station. He threw the device to Xarra and drew his own weapon, complete with its fresh power cell. As Bartleby pulled her feet up and tried to use the chair as protection.


Hadrian Jak charged the nearest assailant before they could pull their weapon to bear and brought his hands up in a swinging arc underneath the nearest jawline. He didn’t possess the pure strength of an Equinna but he had enough to knock the guys’ head back into the wall and he drove the bone claws on his fingertips deep into the stomach as someone fired their weapon and it scorched a hole into his ear. The effect was terrifying but, having had several dozen training sessions with Doctor Flakk, the Cervidian knew full well that succumbing to fear and running would only expose his flank to the enemy and increase the chances of his demise. So, instead, he wrapped his arms around the bent over opponent, picked him off the ground and slammed him onto his head before turning to the next one as a knife came in for his side. He pushed it out with an effort as Gelligan thrust his own blade into the Jestavanians’ back. The squad medic checked Hadrian over.


“Put him over there,” Flakk ordered, using emergency equipment to direct a science officer with a Mican security Officer with a destroyed leg over to a bed as an assailant appeared in the doorway. He fired, splitting the science officer almost in two before Flakk could respond. At this distance he had no chance to close the distance so he did the next best thing. He pointed a laser scalpel at the opponent. He saw the slightest smirk and pressed the button. Set to maximum, the scalpel fired a continuous beam of cutting energy that sliced straight through his forehead, between his ears, through his brain and out the other side of his skull before the dead fired autonomously. The shot impacted behind Flakk’s shoulder, missing it through the arm jerking. He released the button and moved aside, towards the door as a second appeared in the doorway. Something pushed him from behind and the Jestavanian stumbled forward, off-balance. Flakk thrust him further forward to the floor, straddled him and brought his strength to bear on snapping the neck. “You should be in the safe zone,” he snapped at Kohlich.

“Couldn’t get him to go in,” Kelly said, entering behind her boyfriend.

“I’m more use out here,” he coughed. “Where I can help.”

“How,” Flakk snarled, moving to help the Mican as he tried to pull himself away from the dead scientist.

“Well,” Kohlich commented, picking up the dropped Jestavanian weapon. “there’s this for a start.”
Flakk froze, ready to move if Kohlich tr… A series of button pushes on the side of the weapon and Kohlich threw it to Flakk. “now free for anyone to use..” Flakk staggered as the ship was hit again. “I’ve done a few…” He ducked aside painfully as Flakk used the device to blast an attacker behind his ally. Flakk threw the weapon back to him. “It, uh, pair bonds if I use it,” Kohlich warned.

“Then get it to a guard,” Flakk snapped.


Yarkin had two of the guns Kohlich had cleared sent to the squad defending engineering and had one for herself, heading towards Jak’s position.


“Weapons charging,” Riltan reported as the situation on the bridge came under control. The medic treated Kridd, suffering a broken arm and Maldak, who’d taken a wound that would have been much more fatal if it hadn’t been taken by her pouch. Bartleby had almost taken a shot to the head but the chair had absorbed the entire impact as designed.

Xarra ran a sensor check. “Can’t tell if our shields are working,” she advised.

“Put ‘em up anyhow,” Postain told her, sniffing away a trickle of blood from his nose. “It’ll stop them sending more.”

“Aye, sir.”


On the flickering screen, the ship still stood, despite the best efforts of the starlancer fighters. Far enough removed from the main conflict that Postain could guess the firing of the EMP weapon had been a mistake on the part of the Tibri. They’d figured someone would follow them in and blitz the attacked ship but none had. Now, though…


A beam of energy cut through from the satellite. A beam that would stand no chance against the Jestavanian’s shields but, now they didn’t have any shields, it cut through the hull with relative ease, slicing chunks from the vessel, exposing the interior to the void in great swathes. “Now why,” Bartleby asked, “couldn’t they have done that to start with?”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I just enjoyed reading this chapter! It is so awesome!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTY-THREE


“Engines at three percent,” Bartleby called over the rattle of the barely working life support systems. “Dampers and gravity systems at fifteen.” She wondered if the fact that Gravity and dampers and visual links were low energy systems had meant they survived the EMP effect somehow. Well, more than weapons, shields and navigation had anyhow. As it was, she had enough to move slowly in several directions but manoeuvres beyond that were beyond her. She could see the battle on screen but couldn’t tell who was winning. Although someone clearly was.


Katz had cursed. Straight after they’d got the information about the antennae, the connection to Senny had died after the flash. In fact, even the communications with the other fighters had dropped. Probably. “O.K.,” he’d told his helmet and any others who might hear,” I’m making a run on that antennae,” he finished as he noted the drones were still flying. Obviously their transmission antennae was shielded. Or they could work autonomously. Both options were bad but there was only one the currently blonde haired Human could deal with now. He’d noted the enemy ship – although his thoughts weren’t so polite in definition – had dropped shields too. His comm crackled as he fired on the hull, stitching fire over a fifty foot line of the hull. <”...ive to Katz… me in...”>

He tapped his helmet comm as he flipped for another run. “That you, Kilbitz,” he asked. He knew the Mephidan was an amateur enthusiast in communications. If anyone was going to breach the communication problem, it’d be her.

<”In...lled a comm b..ster two m...ths back. Ran.. near max. Or...rs?”>

“Same as before,” he told her. “Snap that antennae before they kill us all. Send Nine and twelve to keep them off the old barn. Repeat the numbers, Kilbitz.”

<”..ne and tw...ve,”> she replied, before peeling back to get close enough to relay the instructions. Katz shook his head. If they both survived, he’d have to buy her a drink. Not that she wasn’t cute anyhow. And, thankfully, trained to keep calm. He twisted hard and a drone shot past him to impact with the antennae he’d been targetting. He had a little time to celebrate before a shot from reactivating anti-fighter cannons took off his left wing and spun the ship crazily towards the surface. Knowing he only had a few seconds, Katz engaged the escape mechanism and the pilots cockpit blasted free of the fuselage to freewheel away from the descending fighter into space. He didn’t see his ship crash into the antennae. He saw something swoop over him in the moment before the weapon platform spoke again, driving energy through the Jestavanian hull. He felt the pull of a traction beam latch on and pull him clear before things started exploding.


Senny Appleby fumed. She was in the dark. Literally and figuratively. As soon as the power had gone down, so had the lights, doors and communications that linked her to the outside universe and her people. She didn’t know if they were alive or dead. She didn’t even know if the bridge crew were alive or dead. An engineer had been kind enough to knock on the sealed door to tell her the current situation outside the door and she wanted out. She wanted to thump someone. Or kill them in some fashion. To DO something. She was a sitting target in here. A sitting target in the dark.


Harmony cleaned one of her assailants clocks with a de-powered shokstick and kicked him in the groin whilst he was down and security handled the others. She put her hand to the fallen opponents head and ripped the release code for his weapon from his mind with a complete lack of subtlety that may well have removed several memories at the same time. It wasn’t a thing she liked doing but seconds could lead to fatalities here so she punched him on the snout and input the code, throwing the gun to one of the security Officers before doing it again with the next weapon as though she’d always been able to do it. Well, she did have the memories, didn’t she? This one she took for herself. It was, after all, only a sidearm. She led the way towards the school. She had a feeling intruders were there somewhere.


Hadrian stopped in at the medical bay and tried not to slip on the blood that stained the floor. “Bad… day,” he asked Flakk as the Doctor finished working on the wounded engineer.

“Had better,” Flakk countered. “You just here to pester or do…” He glanced over and noted Hadrian holding his side where the blade had gone in. He also noted the trail of blood running down the Cervidian’s leg, despite the triage attempts of the squad medic. “Get over here,” he finished, suddenly concerned for a prey he’d come to see as a friend. He pulled Hadrian over to the bed that wasn’t occupied by the Mican with the sealed off leg. He sat him down and started work on cleaning the wound and sealing it. “Just glad they stopped firing,” he added.

The ship shook. “You had to say it, didn’t you?”


The shaking had come from outside the ship as pieces of the Tibri cracked against the barely functioning shields as the beam from the satellite cracked the main engine reactor, leading to an explosion that wasn’t as powerful as it would have been had the engines been working. The fighter carrying Katz back to the main ship jinked out of the way of a fragment of hull that cut through the traction beam and Katz’s capsule fell free towards the open shuttle bay. The Human reasoned he was coming in quite fast. Fast enough to really hurt if… The beam locked on again, pulling backwards as he entered the bay before it cut off again. He still had forward momentum but it was now about thirty percent of what it had been as he screeched onto the deck, scarring the floor as he careered through the room like a bowling ball. He slammed into the far wall and stayed still for a moment as he wasn’t sure if he was still alive. Then he felt his wrist screech with pain internally and reasoned that, as Heaven would never allow anyone in with a broken wrist, he was either alive or in the other place. And the other place clearly had air to burn. This place didn’t so he was alive. With his suit hopefully sealed, Katz opened the very cracked cockpit and pulled himself out as it was lying on its’ side. He made to stand up and doubled down on pain as he found his ankle was ‘giving him jip’. It might be broken too. He looked at the shuttles that he’d just missed on his way in and the damage that deck chief Pakka was going to hold him responsible for. He dragged his form along the wall, trying not to pass out as he had to use his wounded wrist to hold himself up on the wall. At least, he figured, he was close to the interior airlock doors. And, beyond them, Jul.


“Uh, oh,” Bartleby reported. “Company coming our way.”

“How many,” Postain demanded.

“Three of them are headed in our direction,” she said coldly.

“Great,” Xarra said, making sure the captured Jestavanians were cuffed and taken away. “Three more than we can handle.”

“Ready weapons,” Postain grumbled.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Hope that their weapons will be able to take it! I can't wait to see how this is gonna go!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

In which we see what Caldan can do to help the situation...

SIXTY-FOUR


The Rodomont moved slowly forward, pushing against her own weight as the energy field around her sparkled with faltering energy. She was headed this way for the simple reason that she wasn’t going to be fast enough to get away in any other direction so the Captain had decided to take the initiative and close the gap faster than they might anticipate. A desperate gamble indeed, and probably futile. There were, after all, three of them coming in. The ship pushed past orbital debris and the remains of orbital defences as the ships opened fire on the satellite station behind the Rodomont.


The remaining fighters spiralled past as the satellite blew some distance back. The light of energy flashed brightly for a second before fading into the dark. Beams of energy strafed in the far distance as the combat continued without their assistance. There was a new fight incoming. Kilbitz had taken over control of the flight as she was the only one able to direct anyone right now and she’d had them spending the last few minutes blowing up the drones in case the Nebulans could reactivate them with a new controlling ship. But, now, there was a bigger problem. Three of them. And even the Mephidian understood this was probably going to be a futile gesture. But futile gestures were still a finger to sanity and, if she was going to die, it was going to be with her finger up someone’s nose. She’d decided that.


“Weapons at thirty percent,” Riltan advised casually. “not enough to do much damage, sir,”

Postain sat down in his chair and checked to see if his armrest console was working yet. He scowled as it refused to come online. “Depends where you put your shots, Riltan. Is targetting online?”

“Not yet, sir,” Riltan reported.

“Well, it’s a good job you can fire manually then, isn’t it? Or was that a deception on your C.V?”

Riltan bristled at the intimated insult but quickly figured out it was just to spur him on as he began working with the manual targetting system. “Third in my class, sir.”

“Prove it.” Postain retorted.


In the safe zone, Caldan and Carkha had their trapped audience wondering what the heck these two idiots were up to, performing pieces of drama and ‘comedy’ for no apparent reason. Right now, they were doing the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, with Carkha the Dog as a feline Juliet and Caldan as a Raitchian Romeo. And without a balcony. Caldan was using a Science teacher as a tree to hide behind.

Carkha stepped onto the ‘balcony’ (A used replication machine)

“But soft,” Caldan said with exaggerated quietness, “what light through yonder window breaks? This line,” he added, “would be more effective if we had a window. Or a light.” A smattering of laughter. “It is the East and Juliet is the sun… although she needs a brush…” he continued through his little speech to varying amounts of success as he threw the rulebook out every chance he got.

By the time Carkha got to his part of the scene, in which he extolled Romeow – to general humour and eye rolling from the felines – he’d decided to do likewise and, instead of asking wherefore he was, asked ‘why the ‘ell’ he was called Romeow instead.

“I’m not,” Caldan stage whispered. “She’s sexy but she needs to get that problem with names sorted.”

“Deny thy father and be a writer,” Carkha shot back, as though Caldan hadn’t said anything as he knew Juliet wouldn’t have heard, “or, if yer too chicken, just be sworn – at, my love and probably assaulted by Rabbits – and I’ll just call you a crackpot…”

Outside, a battle was raging. But the group in the zone was no longer paying attention.


Tyla assisted Martin Jul with the Human and cheered inwardly. Of all the anatomies she’d wanted to study first hand, Human was up there. They balanced without a counterweight. They called that stub a nose. No muzzle to give them a real grip with their teeth. Other than that they seemed to be more adaptable than many of the others and more or less a normal size frame to work with. She got him up on the bed and watched as Jul applied the local medication and removed the upper body armour to get at the wrist first. “Only two,” she asked Jul as the Human lay open skinned on the bed.

“Wouldn’t believe how often people ask that,” Katz said, almost playfully despite the pain. “And they don’t work.”

“Do you two mind,” Martin asked, running his machine over the broken bones and applying its healing energies.

“Not at all, Martin,” Kira told him before looking back at Katz. “Do you charge for a full examination of your anatomy,” she asked curiously.

Martin coughed with surprise as Katz laughed. Doctan Tyla didn’t quite know why but she suspected the drugs had begun to take effect. She got to work on applying the healing gel to the Human’s ankle. It wasn’t broken, it seemed, just sprained. She took the chance to look at his foot. No pads there, like his hands. The footclaws shared the same, flat and mostly transparent look as the fingers too. Totally impractical in her eyes. It seemed he was ticklish too. He’d certainly tried to jerk as she’d put the gel on.


“Thirteen seconds to range,” Riltan remarked sourly. The ship shuddered violently as the first of the new three opened fire on them. Postain knew they had hull breaches. The shielding they had was patchy and that power would have broken through. A console sparked and failed. Riltan fired. The shot slashed ineffectively at the shielding opposite.

“Picking up incoming transmissions,” Maldak shouted over the roar of impact. “Their jamming signal’s down! Five ships incoming!”

“Where,” Postain demanded, almost with resignation at the lost fight.

“Right on top of us!”


The fighters scrambled to get out of the way as the incoming ships had instructed, Two of them didn’t make it and were smashed by the impact wave as five Star Council ships exploded back into normal space above the wounded Rodomont.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Hope that they can fic the Rodomont soonish. It might end up giving out if nothing is done.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTY-FIVE

“Are we able to fire torpedoes,” Postain asked, sitting forward in his chair as the Star Council warships tried to protect the Rodomont with their shields. He grated at being saved as that was supposed to be his job and it was their fault for not warning him about that close range weapon. He’d have to bring that up with Posnar if the Cadan survived. He wanted to get back in the fight, even though he was clearly aware of the near impossibility.

“Not enough spare power to use the launchers, sir,” Riltan advised, turning with his customary grace to adress the Captain. There wasn’t too much reason to focus on his screens right now. The ship shook again as the Ikaerians thundered energy bolts into her nose,

The returning sensors enabled Kridd to give the Captain a damage report. “Venting… atmosphere on C-1 and B-1. Force fields NOT holding.”

“Xarra, get those sections sealed off.”

Xarra, knowing the comms were down, understood he meant go do it yourself and get help from anyone you met on the way, took off with best Mican speed. Something shook the ship. She didn’t know if it was shot or ship and she didn’t much care. There wasn’t much she could do about it. She vaulted a dead security officer lying in the hallway and swept around the Jestavanian who’d swapped deaths with him. She turned the corner and almost shot Kohlich as he was standing there without a weapon and, absurdly, Doctor Cobalt with a Jestavanian gun in hand. “What are YOU doing out,” she spat, barely able to look at him right now, let alone speak to him.

“Helping,” he replied shortly. “De-programming their guns so you can use them.”

Xarra thought of saying something but just about managed to hold her tongue with an effort. “Right, right. You two, get help and seal off section B-1. We’re venting atmosphere there and at C-1. Breach coming soon,” she added, dashing sideways to the stairs. At the speed she was going, it’d be faster than the lift anyway.


Kelly took the lead in the rescue dash now, making sure she didn’t get too far ahead of Kohlich as he strained to keep up. Adrenaline was only going to get the tired engineer so far, she knew, and she kept going to the first of the three doors she needed to seal. She could hear the air whooshing as it was being sucked from the ship through some wound in the skin. She could feel it, real wind present in the ship, as she gripped the bulkhead door and pulled it shut manually. Painfully. Straining muscles. She’d known she’d need help for this but had only considered that being to get to all the doors quickly, not so much the strain of actually closing them as the air tried to keep them open. She gritted her teeth and pulled it closer to the lock. Closer… Jestavanian hands joined hers and gave her more strength than they actually added and, between the two of them, they were able to pull the door into the lock and Kelly locked the bolt into place. “One down,” she gasped, “two to go.”

“I found… a security Officer,” Kohlich gulped. “He said he’d close door three.”

She clapped him on the shoulder. “See? No pressure.”

He pointed to the door. “That’s… the other side.” A sly grin exchanged, then Kelly took off again. Kohlich rolled his eyes and made after her at best speed. He was going to need sleep after this.


Xarra and a trio of duty engineers had split into two groups to take on the task on the lower floor and the Commander had managed to sight at least one of the holes as light shone through it. The Captain had, apparently, repositioned what shields they had to ensure the Nebulan lot couldn’t widen the holes easily so she could see green flashes through a five foot wide gash that was only getting wider. “Let’s get this closed,” she told Vimma, a Canine female of the Doban kind as she started pulling. The Doban gripped the wheel with one hand and pulled as the wind tried to pull itself from their lungs. They exhaled evenly as they pulled and Xarra fancied Vimma was doing more than her. But who was doing most didn’t matter. That it was getting done did. A final pull and the door closed heavily. Xarra took control and sorted the lock. “We have to… assume Martak and Yawson dealt with… door three,” she gasped, refilling her lungs with air.

The Doban, resting her hands on her knees, nodded. “Door… two it is.” They headed off.


Kelly had needed to shoulder Kohlich now, halfway to door number two. They were going slower now, of course, and he’d tried to convince her to leave him there and get to the door. “Can’t close it…” she told him, “...by myself. I’ll dump you at the first offer of help, OK?”

“Do what… you have to to… survive, Kelly,” he told her. Where WAS everybody? No-one they’d seen was available to help them as they were carrying out emergency repairs already. He’d seen her comms unit glow a second or so at a time and figured someone was trying to reconnect communications. He figured he should look at that when they got a moment. But they didn’t have a moment. This was beginning to remind him rather too much of what he’d been through so recently. The thought gave him a new bolt of power to his legs. He wasn’t going to let these good people suffer through that again. The pair of them picked up speed as they reached the howling point with the door just at an uncomfortable closeness to the extraction point. With watering eyes fighting the pull of the beyond, he began to help her pull the door shut.


“Any luck on communications, Maldak,” Postain asked the Quokkian on the bridge as the fight spiralled towards victory with the new allied ships turning the tide if he liked it or not.

“Comms still down,” she reported. “Shipwide’s back online though. For general messages.”

“You, uh, may want to put a call to Xarra over the shipwide,” Kridd put in, wiping a smear of blood off his console. Was that his or someone else's? Did it matter? “Uh, the hull’s about to go in B-1. She’s gotta get those bulkheads shut. I’ve managed to shut down the air vents in the areas affected.”

Postain gave him a grim nod.


He blinked. Was there someone in there? He was sure he could see someone in the area, struggling towards them. A Jestavanian? Possibly. But… what was that race they said was like his? The… Brookians? Maybe, but not quite. It could easily be one of them. Trying to get to the door even as they fought to close it. Kelly hadn’t seen him, she had her eyes closed due to the pressure as she pulled and Kohlich was quite glad of it. She’d give the female time and he could see they didn’t have it. The hull behind her was beginning to buckle. The blast out was imminent, he knew that. He’d seen it before. Not in the war but before that. An accident aboard ship. The section had needed sealing to save everyone. As it did here. He shifted around so he was between Kelly and the sight. The female cried out but he couldn’t hear her as her voice was pulled backwards, into the sucking wound in the skin. With a final strain, they closed the door on her and, having seen what Kelly had done the last time, he locked it. The bulkhead shuddered as the penetration ripped wider. They needed to get away from here, he figured. No rest for the wicked.


He decided he wouldn’t tell her as they helped each other away.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Good work on the chapter! It is very awesome!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTY-SIX


There was no silence after battle. The battle wasn’t done. Three more squads had entered the ship and were directly engaging Yarkin and her teams, particularly around engineering. To the invaders surprise, they were being met by strong fire, mostly from their own weapons. Yarkin had the impression they were surprised but she didn’t much care. She’d lost a good ten percent of her force during this encounter and she knew of a dozen dead engineers and scientists whose bodies talked paragraphs of these Jestavanians intentions. She was holding the line and making them pay for every inch. A shot skimmed her hiding place, almost ripping into the side of her head and she shifted quickly to a new position as Lembik covered her, launching a volley of fire down at their attackers and exposed herself just a fraction too long, taking a shot that skirted across the top of her head, drawing a cry of pain as the skin sliced off, almost down to the bone. Yarkin fired, striking the exposed arm of an assailant. He yelped as the appendage tore off, scattering down to the floor with a thump. Not much blood, she noted. It had, of course, cauterized as it had sliced and it was mainly the fall to the ground had forced the blood out. A pair of shots from behind the Jestavanians. Xarra appeared, keeping her stolen pistol ready to use. “Situation, Chief,” Xarra asked from atop the smoking dead.

“Pushed but holding,” Yarkin replied, using her medic training to at least assess Lembik. “Communications would help.”

“Your mouth to Maldak’s ear,” Xarra groused, unintentionally making a pun. “She’s working on reinitialising the system now we have some power.” Her ear twitched as she heard shooting from a little further down. “More of them. Don’t shoot the one in the T-Shirt if you see him. He’s on our side. I think.” Yarkin turned Lembik over to a first aider and joined the Commander in heading to the next encounter.


“Look,” Tyla told the Celican who was protesting about her treating their wound, “it’s either me or you have a longer wait for HIM to get to you and, therefore, have to wait longer before you can go out and kill my people! Is that what you want?”

The Celican looked confused at that statement and the fury and horror writ on the Jestavanian scum’s face and ran that statement over in her mind. It almost overwhelmed the pain in the Vixen’s arm from the energy burns. She relaxed her arm so the scum… Doctor could use the regenerator over the wound on low power. That had been another thing annoyed the Vixen until she recalled that they were having power issues right now. She glared at the door as security fired on whatever was coming down the main passageway. “I need to be back out there,” she growled. “Hurry it up, Doctor.”

“Doctor’s better than scum, I suppose,” Tyla replied evenly, pressing the hand held machine to the skin as Jul had instructed. “Seems I’ve chosen sides,” she professed. “And it’s not the side of the people trying to kill me.”

“My friends are dying,” the Vixen intoned. “If I find out you’re lying, I’ll rip your throat out myself, got it?”

Tyla kept her hand steady as the ship shook again. “Threatening the hand that’s trying to heal you?” The corner of her mouth twitched. “I appreciate the sentiment.” She released the arm. The fur was gone but the skin was remoulding itself quickly, covering the exposed flesh at speed. “It’ll still hurt,” she added, “but you’re a Ceelican. You guys can take a bit of pain, yeah?”

The Vixen looked at her sharply, then allowed the hint of a grin. “Thought you had a hint of Celican about your scent.” She swung herself back to her feet, patted down her guard outfit, hid a wince of pain so as not to show weakness to the Doctor, grabbed her knife, still stained with the blood of her enemies, switched it from the wounded arm to the other and headed out, only to hang back near the door. “Stay safe,” she told Tyla. “So I can find you and kill you if I need to later.”

“She’s a charmer,” Martin admitted after the Vixen had left.

“She’s a warrior,” Tyla replied, before sighing. “Seen a few of those over time,” she confided. “Not many of them twice.”


Bartleby didn’t feel she needed to be told to veer off course as the ship was heading towards a rather large explosion. One of the Ikerian ships had been targetted by no less than three of the Council reinforcements and had decided it was a good idea to die quite quickly and, maybe, take some of the others with it. Pieces spattered over strong shields provided by the other ships but sections of hull would, inevitably, get through and some was ripping the skin on the starboard side. “Kridd,” she heard Postain order, “any news on the forcefields?”

“Uh, auto...automatic doors are back online,” the Feline responded, hoping his console stayed online as he read from it. “Forcefields in place on essential areas only. Uh, the system indicates the fighter bay is on fire.”

“That’s one for engineering. You!” he pointed at a bridge runner. “Get to engineering! Tell Xarra about the fighter bay. Go!” The Canine nodded and left, running past the security forces guarding the bridge.

Postain knew it was a risk but it was one that needed making. If the fighter bays were protected by forcefields the fighters couldn’t land and, for all he knew, the fight would be over before Maldak managed to get internal communications back online. They were out of communication with everyone. He didn’t even have much of a clue as to if Xarra was alive but he knew that if she was, Engineering would be where she was found. The most critical area on the ship.


Harra lifted a Jestavanian above his head and crashed him down onto his knee, snapping his spine near effortlessly before dropping him as an assailant shot him in the flank. Xarra nailed the shooter with a shot of her own as the mighty Equinna felt the wound. He was a little more concerned about the other shooters Yarkin was hunting as Xarra stopped by to check on him. “We’re holding,” he told her, ignoring the fact that she could see his wounds. He felt a little weak but stood as though the wounds were less than fleabites.

“You have three holes in you, Chief,” Xarra told him.

“I know,” he replied with humour, “I was there at the time. What… what now,” he asked as a final shot rang out.

“I’d say you to medical but you’re not moving, are you?” He shook his head as a breathless and bleeding Canine ran in and almost got shot by Yarkin. “Then I won’t bother,” Xarra finished. “Turvey,” she asked, indicating the bridge runner curiously, “what are you doing here?”

“Captain… Postain said he wants… you to deal with the fire in the… fighter bays,” the out of breath Canine gasped.

Xarra rolled her eyes and put her hands on the console to steady herself as she contemplated the race to the manual controls in the control room. “If there’s no rest for the wicked,” she cursed, “how is it I can’t catch a break either?”


And off she ran again. She hated her boots.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I personally like characters that wear boots myself. I'm glad that Elena doesn't have to wear them. LOL
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTY-SEVEN


Postain released control of the bridge to Xarra as soon as she got back as the fighting had receded and they’d received a message from Posnar appreciating their assistance amongst other things. Maldak was almost back online with the internal communications now she had ship to ship running again. The tired Mican slopped into the command chair. “One order,” he told her before leaving. He pointed. “Those boots stay on.”

Xarra let out a long sigh. She’d just run the entire length of the ship twice in ten minutes and run around half the deck on top of that. But things were under control now. Security had the boarding parties either under control or under the deck plates in death. The Star Council had beaten back the attack but taken a walloping to do it. A colony attacked, three ships destroyed, two more damaged, the Councillors planet attacked… Yeah, she decided, this was quite the butcher’s bill. And now…

Postain entered the medical bay, where Doctor Flakk was carrying out the final actions on a Erminian arm, sealing up the wound before letting the male off the bed and turning to him. “Ten dead,” he announced tiredly, “twenty five wounded. Here. I don’t know about Jul’s place.”

“Where’s Cobalt?”

“Floating and accompanying the Jestavanian Lieutenant. He’s been deprogramming their guns.”

Postain nodded and made a mental note to make sure Kohlich didn’t keep any ‘souvenirs’ for himself. “Had a call from Cadan Posnar,” Postain remarked. He slapped the bed. “They’ve turned down your request to infect yourself with the virus to test the cure. Are you mad?”

“Nope.” Flakk turned his attention to a Lappinean with a slashed ear as he kept talking. “We need to know the effect of that contagion on our races. I wasn’t going to ask anyone else to do it so it came to me.”

“No, it didn’t,” Postain grumbled. “It would have come to ME, Doctor. I approve all transfers to and from the ship. You cut me out again, Doctor. You have to stop doing that.”

“Would you have approved? You have a perfectly capable Senior Medical Officer in Doctor Cobalt. She could have handled the problems here for a while.”

“She needs you,” Postain shot back. “I need you. I have three Doctors for a crew of hundreds. Two just isn’t going to cut it and I don’t intend to lose you yet.”

“Good,” Flakk cut back. “So a rise is in order?”

“Give him it,” said the Lappinean, suddenly worried about the repairs to his ear.

“I don’t need your help,” Flakk groused. “Shut up and let me put your ear back together. They used a filthy blade. Better use the decontamination spray,” he finished, making the patient stiffen with reaction to pain as it took effect, burning the torn flesh before Flakk set about the work of laser stitching the appendage back into one.

“That hurt,” the Lappinean understated.

“Help often does, Get over it.”

Postain moved back out of the medical bay, having a feeling he’d been out-manoeuvred somehow.


The comm fitted back into life on his wrist as he made his way towards engineering, stopping to check on pulses of the fallen if there was a possibility of life. He had a medical kit from the medical bay and he used the emergency kit three times before Maldak managed to patch through. <”iz...is wor..ing,”> her voice asked.

He tapped his comm with blood stained fingers. “Just about, Maldak. Tell Xarra to keep us on alert but get people to check the areas around the safe zones. Make sure they’re usable before we tell the people in the zones that it’s safe to come out.”

<”Wilco, sir,”> she replied as Postain entered the required destination.


Harra was doing his best in a sea of damage. The firefight had holed half the consoles and the engine cowlings so the Equinna was busy with his team, keeping the engines from overloading and destroying the ship. “Bit busy, Captain,” he complained as he replaced a circuit board and ran a test. “They did a fair bit of property damage after they saw they weren’t going to win. You should hold that against them,” he complained.

Postain noted that his acting Chief had been shot a few times but decided not to mention it to him in case he didn’t actually know. He had considerable muscle mass and could happily take a few shots, he supposed. “What do you need from Command,” Postain asked.

“As much as you can spare, Captain. Which I doubt you’ll be able to supply.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Our hosts are going to have to pack up quickly, aren’t they? Their place here has been discovered. They’ll be packing up. They might not even let us use the industrial replication machine to patch our wounds.” He sighed. “I’ll have to get the zero -g suits out again…”

“It’ll take all our spares,” Postain reasoned.

“And more,” Harra replied, lifting clear a chunk of cover. “What are you doing with the prisoners?”


That, Postain had decided, was a question for Yarkin. He caught up with the feline as she finished putting the prisoners into the five cells of the brig. They were doubled up and a medic was dealing with some of their wounds whilst Jak and a number of other guards kept watch on the situation. “We’re going to have to offload these to Posnar and the Council,” Postain told her, eliciting a look of alarm from one of the Jestavanians.

“Don’t… Don’t turn me over to him,” the figure pleaded. “He’ll… he’ll kill me. Take… take me back with you! Please!”

“You are in NO position to request anything,” Postain snapped. “Do you really imagine I give a flying fig for your rights right now? I’ve got dead people here! Killed by you and your people here! There’s little chance of any mercy from me today!” he stomped back into Yarkins’ office. As the door shut, he slammed his fist onto the table. “That was an asylum request with a direct accusation against their personal safety.”

“Hmm,” Yarkin mused. “Rules prohibit us…”

“...handing over a prisoner to be executed,” Postain snarled, interrupting with hostility. “I know, Yarkin!” He seethed. “I’m not inclined to assist him but… Get their pictures over to Posnars’ ship. Tell them we’ve selected ONE to answer charges in the Councils’ court and we’ve selected that one at random. If they protest too much about him let ‘em have him.”

“And, if they DO let us have him?”

“Then he answers to our lot and does time in prison for piracy.”

“Right,” Yarkin nodded. “Oh, speaking of Pirates, have they got Senny out yet?”


In the pitch black of the hologram room, Senny waited for engineering to get the door open.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This was a great chapter! Sorry I didn't comment sooner. I had to go to the hospital.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Good to have you back. Unprobed?

SIXTY-EIGHT

“So,” Xarra asked as she stood in Postain’s office, “what changed your mind, sir?”

Postain looked up from his computer to regard her idly. “If that’s you being sarcastic, Hilla, you can stuff it. I still think we should hunt down this weapons lab and obliterate it but the Star Council has made it clear they want to deal with this on their own. We’ve given them a leg up on it and it looks like they’re on their way to developing a cure for it…”

Xarra nodded. They’d been trading Raitchian blood for usage of the industrial replication machine for the last six hours. The Council member was packing up everything they could move and that included the replication machine. A specific ship was being brought in for that and Posnar was going to be going over that ship VERY carefully before it was allowed too close.

“Right,” Postain said, changing the subject somewhat, “how are the repairs going?”

“We’re concentrating on replacing the outer hull, sir, on B and C decks. Yarkin’s getting close to being able to release the safe zone door in the sciences section after shifting the debris that fell against it. A Force field’s keeping the atmosphere in as Harra’s not got anyone clear to repair that hairline crack yet. We have fifteen fatalities and…”

“I know all the fatalities, Hilla. I’ve been writing their letters for the last four hours. They’ll be in the next data packet to Talvary. When we get back in communications range.”


Medical bay two was getting quieter now and Katz the Human was sat up on the bed, trying to convince Doctan Tyla that his people really had evolved like this and they’d had a real shock when people who looked awesomely like non-sentient creatures on his planet had landed on one of their northern continents almost a century back.

“You think you were surprised,” Jul put in from the door to his office. “The reports from the Canine delegation that crashed indicated they thought you were the strangest looking things they’d ever met and despised the collars you insisted their brethren wear. Not to mention what you did to your Mice.” He grinned a sweet smile. “You’re just lucky their Commander figured you didn’t know the pain you were inflicting.”

“I keep apologising for my ancestors,” Katz complained rhetorically, leaning back on the bed.

“Better than apologizing for things you actually did, Bob,” a playful voice opined from the doorway, where a Mephidian leaned casually on the frame, her helmet under arm.”

“’Bob’ Katz,” Martin asked, quirking an eyeridge.

“Best nickname I could have hoped for,” the Human admitted as his friend sauntered in. He lost the grin as he asked the next question. “How’re Paston’s family, Zoe?”

They’d lost Paston in the fight, amongst four others. The difference, however, was that Paston was married with a child and both of them were aboard the ship. With Katz stuck in here, it had been Kilbitz’s job to pass on the condolences as Senny had still been trapped.

“I…” Zoe tried looking for the words. She couldn’t find them.

“It’s never easy, Ma’am,” Tyla told her. “The worst thing is it never gets any easier, not even if you know the words.”

Zoe nodded testily to the female who looked so like her most recent enemies. “I can believe that. You have experience?”

Tyla stared her down. “I work in a hospital and regularly see thousands of people a year. Ninety-Five percent leave the hospital. Five percent is still quite a number.”

“Yeah, well…” She turned away from the Doctan and back towards Katz. “With help, they’ll make it. And We’ll make sure they get it, right?”

“Of course.” Katz shifted slightly. “We doing the ceremonial drink in the bar later?”

Kilbitz nodded serenely. “At nine. You’ll be there?”

Martin smirked slightly at her face as she asked. She wasn’t just asking out of professional courtesy. She was quite hopeful on a personal level too. “Drinking fruit juice,” he told them, knowing full well how well that’d go down and knowing the compromise he’d already planned to make.

“Doctor,” Katz protested, “I can’t salute a fighter pilot with fruit juice! It’s just not on!”

“Didn’t know you were an addict, Katz,” Martin cut back. He sighed. “I understand low alcohol hard cider is made of fruit juice, yes? I’ll put it on your record that you’re allowed TWO of those and ONLY two of those. Right?”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Katz replied.

Martin went into his office and added the information to Katz’s file. Then sent a message to the Starwheel barman to remind him that he did have litre glasses available…

“Look, um, Zoe,” Katz said hesitantly. “The, um, next vacation we get..?”

“Ye-es?”

“Do you, um… Would you, um…”

Tyla glanced at him and to her as he stumbled over the words.

“Would you like to go with me,” Katz finally managed to say, making Tyla cheer inwardly.

Zoe shrugged, as though it was no big thing. “Sure,” she said, before turning and heading out.

“You put yourself in harm’s way without a thought,” Tyla mused playfully, “and without fear. But you can’t ask a friend out?”

“Different style of terror, Doc,” he replied.


Kerri sighed happily. She was back in the conduits again, carrying out inspections and patchwork before the ship had to leave. She’d enjoyed the time locked in the safe zone with Darren. She’d enjoyed seeing him interact with the kits and younglings from the school when they’d managed to get him to lighten up. One had been a budding magician with a speciality in card tricks and Kerri had got him dancing when someone played music on a comm. She’d pitched in to repair a failing food replication system and brought it back to partial life on a setting that meant it could, at least, produce milkshakes and bananas. She’d whispered to Darren that she didn’t think they cared about other foods as the other emergency one was making those. She’d held him with every shake of the ship. And he’d held her for most of them. Before, she’d been joking when she’d suggested babies with her Celican. Now? She was pretty sure she was serious about it. But that was for later. Now she was just running the checks and keeping an eye on the temperature. It should be constant. A change might mean a crack in the hull seals that wasn’t big enough to be detected yet. The personal check was more accurate.


Postain took his seat after taking food from a replication machine and started work on it before Xarra commed him. He frowned and downed his knife and fork before reacting. “Yes, Xarra?”

<”Just been commed by your opposite number, sir,”> she replied. <”He says we need to be on the move within three hours.”>

“Understood. Did he say why?”

<”Pretty much. He inferred we wouldn’t want to be around when the planet exploded.”>

Postain grumbled. “Roger that.”
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

They just gave me painkillers and a referral to a physical therapist to help me out with the pain. I'm gonna try to set up an appointment at some point. I have a REALLY nasty condition called Sacroiliitis which means severe muscle strain from my buttock to my leg. Anyway I enjoyed this chapter by the way! Wonderful job!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTY-NINE

Bartleby ran through the launch warm up again. Thrusters were up and running and hyperspace engines were at seventy percent efficiency. Harra had stated they’d be at ninety by launch time despite having to spend time repairing the hull or it would all fall apart under the stress of acceleration. Sciences had been drafted into help engineering, taking over non-essential stations so engineering could deal with the more important things. Chief Tavin was having trouble getting them to do his bidding without relaying everything to Harra but the Feline was beginning to gain traction. He knew what he was doing. Mostly. For the other things he had Harra’s deputy close by.

Doctor Flakk was taking stock of everything he had left in his supplies and working out if they were sufficient. They weren’t. And he still had the autopsies to ‘look forward’ to. Posnar’s medical officer had been over to collect several of the Jestavanian corpses for identification and analysis but he’d left the one the Doctor had killed as it was, according to Jestavanian rights, perfectly legal for a warrior to claim the body of someone he’d killed in battle as his or her own possession. Flakk had some particularly nasty invasions in mind for that one. Killing defenceless people right under his nose was offensive to him. He had to gain restitution.


Enzo Carvalho yawned as he splashed some shop bought Oat ‘milk’ onto his cereal and tried to stay awake. The panic was over. The fight was over – for now. The school holiday was over. It was six in the morning. He knew others had been up all night and knew that his mom and ‘uncle’ Martin had only been ‘up’ for part of it. Oops. He stopped filling the bowl shortly before it spilled over the brim and put a metal straw into the bowl to suck some of the fluid out. He wondered if he should invite Ella to dinner or something? Or just ask if he could hold her hand? Girls were weird., especially Raitchian ones. They had rules and were liable to thump you for not knowing them which was impossible because boys didn’t know… He looked at his bowl of cereal and finally realised something was missing. He stepped over to the tiny kitchen area and took a box of cereal from the cupboard and carefully added it to the milk. The milk nearly spilled over again. He stopped it and sipped it until there was room enough. He put the box back as the door to his moms’ room opened and Martin came out, wearing one of her night dresses.

“Ah, yes,” Martin remarked, stepping over to the food replication machine for a coffee, “school’s open today, isn’t it?”

“Mrrm,” Enzo managed, his mouth occupied by chewing cereal that hadn’t absorbed the milk yet. It was crunchy, even for a Raitchian. “Yup,” he managed after swallowing.

Martin sat next to him and ruffled his headfur. Enzo patted it back into place. “Explains why you’re up early,” the Doctor told him, pouring a little of his Coffee into the cup Enzo had left for the exact reason. The boy didn’t like Coffee but he couldn’t dispute the power of Salatan Spice Coffee to wake someone up in a pinch and he needed that now.

“Wuz my alarm clock ringing that did it,” Enzo remarked in an accusing manner.

“Ah, yes,” Martin replied, “your mother thought you might forget to set it. Good to see you dressed, by the way.” he poked his almost sort of son in the chest. “You make the school uniform look good.”

Enzo laughed and batted the hand away.

“Looking forward to spending more time with your friends, Enzo? Fritter?” He grinned from behind his coffee mug. “Ella?”

Enzo, partway through drinking his coffee, half spat it back into the mug before swatting Martin on the arm. “She’s just a friend,” he protested, knowing that neither of them believed it.

“You have coffee on your nose,” Martin said, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing it off the boy’s muzzle.


Harmony Appleby leaned over in the darkness and kissed Senny’s mouth warmly. “Which of us is the wife today,” she asked as Senny put her arm around her mate’s slender back.

“So it’s my turn to say that doesn’t matter,” Senny replied, using her free hand to take Harmony’s sleeping mask off. The Castoran had wanted a light on last night, after spending so long in the total dark, and had gotten her way with the aid of a sleep assistance for the Erminean. She’d turned the light off at around three but Harmony had looked so peaceful that Senny hadn’t wanted to disturb her.

“Well, people do ask,” Harmony told her, “Or think, at least.”

“Well, they shouldn’t,” Senny argued, stroking Harmony’s back as she lay atop her. “You could stop them.” she shrugged against the sheets. “You won’t, I know, but you could.”

“Easily,” Harmony agreed. “But that’s never the way. Were you OK last night?”

Senny kissed her gently. “After a time,” she admitted. “It wasn’t so much the darkness,” she continued, “it was the being locked in, y’know? I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. My people were out there, fighting and dying and I couldn’t…”

Harmony took to stroking her mate’s head whilst consoling her. She’d known the pressure. She knew the release needed to be controlled. She was letting it through as Senny kissed her neck and held her tightly as she let a speckling of tears out.


Bartleby wondered when that had happened. When had setting course for Talvary station – via Karrin – been setting a course for home? And she didn’t mean the home station, she meant HOME. When had Pandera, Cora II and the others become more home to her than Lapas or Kandanna, the colony she’d lived on for decades? She gave herself a wry grin. It kinda proved she’d grown up. Home wasn’t where her parents were any more. Her chosen mate was here. Her life was here. She’d even found herself casting an eye over estate agent listings last time she was on shore leave. Her fingers danced over the console screen, laying in course changes and speed alterations. The trickiest part was that they had to keep close to their route here as they knew exactly where that minefield was. They were going to have to go through that again. The Lappinean hoped the torpedo launchers were working. She glanced up to the main screen, where the number of ships was beginning to dwindle. Twenty minutes to go. Could she get a sandwich?


As though she’d read her mind, Xarra produced a salad sandwich for the helm officer. “We need you on station in case of needing to go ahead of schedule,” she told her as she accepted the offering. “You may need to react fast. Can’t have you thinking of food, can we?”

Bartleby smirked after taking a bite.

“You have lettuce in your teeth,” Xarra goaded, stepping back to her seat.

“Not one crumb on the console,” Postain warned.

Bartleby swallowed.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Looks like Bartleby might want to rethinking eating at that point. You don't want to tick off Postain.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SEVENTY

Kohlich dragged himself back into the land of reality from the fantasy of dreams. He blinked three times at the darkness. It seemed new to him. It wasn’t the darkness of the space station; it didn’t have the phosphorescent effect tinting the walls green. He shifted under the coverings and knew it couldn’t be the station. He’d not had soft coverings there. That was right, he told himself, that was right. A ship had come. Three of them had been rescued. Himself, Palla and Rakki. Rakki. Where was..? Oh, yeah. Rakki had gone on to the next world.

But this wasn’t the medical bay either. It wasn’t sterile enough. It wasn’t noisy enough. Come to that, he thought, it was no-where near bright enough. And it didn’t smell like that Mican had ever been in here.

As he sat up, the lights came on and he saw he was in a bed with a duvet patterned after birds with horns all flying about. He looked around in a slight panic for what had turned the lights on and then he realised it must have been him. Yeah, there it was. A wall monitor that detected when someone was sitting up so turned the light on. Was he..? He glanced under the covers. He was fully dressed. Someone knocked on the door. Kelly’s voice. “Are you OK in there,” she asked.

“Uh, um…” He swallowed. “Yeah. Um… Come in?”


The door opened and Kelly stepped in, wearing the clothes she’d been wearing yesterday. She held a mug of something steaming in one hand and put it down on the bedside cabinet, before sweeping an item of her underwear off the top and hoping he’d not seen it. “I’d guessed you were awake, Abras,” she said, using his given name as he’d given her permission. She indicated the monitor. “That told me the light was on.”

He accepted the drink and wet his mouth with the slightly bitter tasting concoction. “Kelly,” he asked after a moment, holding the mug in both hands and enjoying the feeling of ‘really hot’.

“Yes?”

“Why am I in your bed?”

She twisted around after perching on the bottom corner of the bed. “You remember when we were under attack yesterday?” He shook his head. She frowned. “Are you sure? I mean it was…” he grinned and she remembered that shaking the head meant ‘yes’. “I’m going to get used to that,” she told him. “Well, it’s simple.” She tapped him on the muzzle tip with a finger. “You passed out.”

“I did not,” Kohlich protested, even though he knew he probably had.

“Tell my shoulder,” Kelly responded. “It took the weight. Had to get you somewhere to rest and recover and my quarters were closer than the medical bay. You’ve been out the best part of a day.”

“A DAY?” Kohlich looked around as he tried to take that in. “My Karvolic rhythm’s going to be going crazy. What’s gone on?”

“Well,” Kelly told him, “the fight’s done. Repairs have been made and we’re about to leave. Apparently the place is being evacuated.”

Kohlich shrugged his shoulders before taking more of the drink. It didn’t taste so bad now. “Doesn’t surprise. If the Nebulan’s know where it is, it’s exposed. I get the Council wanting to move it.” A new thought drifted into his mind. “Kelly, did you spend last night in this bed too?”

She laughed sweetly. “No, Abras, when I say you needed rest, I meant it. I was on the couch. Besides,” she added playfully, “you know Doctor Flakk’s not cleared you for that yet.”

He put the mug back down on the bedside cabinet. “Something to look forward to,” he said, pulling Kelly in for a loving kiss.


Hadrian Jak started slightly as he say Caldan Ravel coming out of Tyla’s room, adjusting his ridiculously flowery shirt as he came. The Cervidian focussed on making sure his antlers didn’t give any of his thoughts away as the author approached, glancing down at the wounded leg as he came. “You OK, Hadrian,” he asked.

“Not as OK as you, apparently,” Hadrian quipped.

“There are benefits to being a Celican,” Caldan replied. “Sometimes we are called upon to speak peace and love unto nations.” A grin. “Particularly the love.”

“It’s not like people haven’t been doing that for millennia, Caldan.” He took a step and held in the wince.

“Are you sure you should be on active duty,” Caldan said, inspecting the wounds’ rough location.

“Stop being a predator around my leg, Caldan,” Hadrian warned.

“Oh, sorry,” Caldan replied, standing up. “It’s the blood trace, y’know?” He grimaced, scritching the back of his neck.

“That’s not making it any better,” Hadrian grumped. Caldan looked up and Hadrian reasoned that his antlers must have sharpened as the Celican backed off. He concentrated on returning them to their normal appearance. “Sorry. How’s the book going?”

“Oh, the, uh, background work’s pretty much done,” he claimed, flicking out his notepad to double check his findings. “Character’s pretty well defined. Celican male hero, of course. Cervidian Doe partner – told you I’d make you a Doe for that gag – with cybernetic implants. Forever standing her ground as bravely as the predators.”

Hadrian sighed slightly as he ‘escorted’ the author away from the Doctan’s room. “He occasionally has to defend her against the others, I take it?”

“It’ll never sell if he’s not a protagonist,” Caldan told him.

“Make sure you point out that she doesn’t appreciate him fighting her battles,” Hadrian warned, “or it won’t sell on the herbivore worlds.”

“True, true. Now I have to work on plot. Maybe something with robots?”

“Pirates,” Hadrian offered. “Robots are passée. Everyone fears pirates. They’re just that one step away from us.”


Kohlich stood at the window in Cobalts’ home, understanding it was more a relay to give the illusion than anything else. The world they’d been in orbit around for the last few days lay in front of him, although he knew it was currently behind them in reality. “It’s so close,” he said, putting an arm around Kelly’s shoulders, “and I couldn’t even go down for a visit.”

“Not cleared for full gravity,” she replied, waiting for the obvious indication of leaving. “Flakk says it was mostly supplies and sciences down there anyhow.”

Kohlich put on an offended face. “I’m sciences,” he protested.

“Thought you were an engineer?”

“Engineering sciences, we call it!”

“Ah, well. Flakk wouldn’t have let you go anyway. He’d not trust them to let you come back.”

He shrugged slightly. “I suppose I AM indispensable.”


They looked on as the Star Council’s world started to retreat into the distance. “My new life begins,” Kohlich remarked, one arm hugging Kelly.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This chapter was really very amazing! Wonderful work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

In the next part, it's back to Karrin. But it's not Postain this time... :D
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Does this mean it will be a certain rabbit who I have missed a lot? :P
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

A few days previously...

SEVENTY-ONE

The Captain had something in his step as he headed along the passageway from his quarters towards his destination. There was no pressure on him now, it was all on his colleague’s shoulders and he was finding the lack of pressure quite liberating. He stepped past one of his maintenance crew members and greeted him by name as the crewmican responded in kind. If he possessed an ego, he’d think that he’d probably made that Mican’s day. But he didn’t so he didn’t. Things were going well today, as well as they’d been for some small time. He was pretty sure that it couldn’t last but, as long as it was, he was happy to let it go on. He reached the door and booped the door panel. “Come on in,” said a voice from inside. He opened the door.


Colleen Una looked across at him from her table, wearing her ambassadorial robes as she sat. “You’re not breakfast,” she told him glumly.

Commader Aldair Hawle chuckled. “I’m quite happy to hear that, Colleen,” he said, stepping in and letting the door close behind him. “I’d ask if you were ready to strike deals with the Karrineans but I see you’re not even ready for breakfast yet.”

Colleen nodded slightly, keeping the smile on her lip. “Cedar often seems to bring me waffles about this time. I think he likes to chat.”

“That’s fair enough,” he responded, “you are best friends, after all.”

“At least you seem to recognise that.” Hawle frowned and sat opposite the Collian junior Ambassador. “Some people think we’re banging boots. I think that’s the colloquialism, isn’t it?”

“One of many,” Hawle admitted. “There’s ‘hopping the hare’, ‘putting the claws in’, a dog and his…’ Well, never mind.” He waved a hand. “When a beautiful lady and a… well, he’s above average in looks guy start spending time together, people usually think there’s something going on. And it’s rarely ‘brother and sister’, y’know?”

“People have simple thoughts,” Colleen remarked.

“All the better to understand us with. Now, about this meeting coming up…”

The door booped again and, guessing who it might be, Commander Hawle nipped into her bedroom and closed the door. Then he thought about it. “If he opens up this door,” he told himself in a whisper, “it’s hardly going to look innocent!”



Commander Sarina Raven stepped onto the bridge of the Loper and wrinkled the black band of fur on her face as she sniffed the air. “Dawton,” she growled, “I thought I told you not to eat on the bridge when you’re commanding the night shift?”

The Human, knowing he’d been caught, stood up quicker than intended from the Captain’s chair and almost fell over. “It was just an energy bar, Commander,” he protested.

“Just an energy bar,” she repeated, stepping to the now empty chair. “Just an energy bar. You realise that those things make crumbs, right?” The powerful Feline fixed him with a tight stare so that he focussed on her eyes more than her mouth, which turned a tight grin. “I don’t like crumbs in my tail, Ensign,” she told him.

“I brushed the chair, Co...commander,” he gabbled.

She clapped him on the shoulders and dropped any pretence of anger. “I know you did, Martin. It was the charged ions from the mini-vac I could smell. Now get gone before you do something that’ll stink the room and need a change of uniform.”

She sat as he headed towards a rest area. Sarah Chapston headed past to relieve the officer on the helm. “We’re on course, Commander,” she said before Raven asked. “Karinna in three and a half hours.” She turned in her seat. “I just about saw Dawton on the way in,” she said. “Is he still biting?”

Raven shucked a claw and picked a bit of breakfast out of her teeth before popping it back in her mouth and swallowing the fragment. “With every offered bait, Chappers.”

Stikka, the Racon 2nd Officer, sat in his chair. “Still playing with the Human?”

“Like a Cat with a toy,” she replied. “To use HIS expression.”


The trip so far had been without incident, although Hawle did have the crew keeping watch for any Jestavanian ships that might be heading their way. Things could change in a week. He sometimes liked to think of space as a millpond. Quiet, serene and calm until someone chucked a stone in and eddies and ripples rebounded off the banks in ways no-one could predict. And, frankly, Postain and the Rodomont were less a stone, more an ornate marble pillar several thousand feet in length. He’d left his cousin, Captain Hawthorne Plebar of the Savval, to work on the space station recovery as she had the science ship and had continued on the path assigned them from Cora II, where Hawthorne and Elana had been getting on like a house on fire (with him in it at times) on their ‘get to know you’ meeting. It had been quite a fortnight, mostly involving house hunting for Hawthorne now she’d re-established contact on the family’s behalf and attending Karlavan Groal’s wedding to Salla, the elderly Lappinean he’d fallen for. They’d wed a week before she’d announced they were expecting and Hawle had his thoughts on that timing… Anyhow, he was on honeymoon now. The stroppy Vixen Katara was acting chief until they got back after Sikly had experienced a problem with his magnetic boots laces coming undone when he was using them and he was taking a few days off to recover from a bruised ego. And head. Hawle thought about banning those boots but merely made Sikly order the most recent version that moulded around your feet and didn’t have laces. And cost three times more. The Mican was paying. How long was Cedar staying in Colleen’s quarters?

Finally, the door opened. “He’s gone,” Colleen told him, taking the stuffed toy off him and placing it, reverently, back on to her bed.

“I thought he’d never leave,” Hawle remarked. “What could he have wanted to discuss?”

“Chat up lines, what we’re up to in the holoroom this week and dignitaries we have in common.”

“And you wonder about people’s opinions? That couldn’t have taken that long, surely?” He indicated the waffle she was about to eat. “Isn’t that cold by now?”

“It’s been five minutes, Captain,” she argued.

“I really don’t idle well,” he guessed.


“I’m leaving the ship in your more than capable hands, Sarina,” Hawle, rather redundantly, told his first officer in the shuttle bay as he prepared to leave with stocks of supplies, Colleen, Doctor Fuze and Security Chief Pangal. “Remember we’re down there, would ya?” She nodded. “Oh, and keep an ear out for the Rodomont. She turns up or calls, call immediately. Especially if she’s coming in at bat out of hell speeds. Knowing him he’s made friends out here. Friends that want us floating home in pieces.”

He didn’t hear her reply as he shut the shuttle door.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Glad to see Hawle again! It has been so long!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SEVENTY-TWO


Colleen leaned over as Commander Hawle piloted the shuttle down towards the same landing zone as Postain had used less than a fortnight earlier. They swept across open vistas and empty homes on an approach vector that both the ambassador and Commander thought was designed perfectly to show the ‘oh, we’re poor’ line the colony were going to take. “Why,” she whispered into his ear, “isn’t Wing Leader Hardy piloting us down?”

“Heh,” The Lappinean remarked, thinking of his extremely skilled fighter leader. “You remember Maze is kinda working two jobs, yes?”

Una considered it. “Ah,” she observed, “don’t want our lovely Raitchian shilling for Monta Weapontech before our actual pro had made initial headway.”

He looked up into her eyes. “That can come later.”

“Oh,” she replied casually, “you have that much trust in me? Able to make deals good enough it requires someone else to mess them up?”

“You sorted out the trade dispute on Goltin IV, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “And then organised the peace talks when the truce broke down and war began.”

“That was never your fault,” Hawle insisted. “No-one knew about the sinkhole under the main highway and the North only thought it was a bomb because of the fuel tanker that ‘found’ it.”

Jaqui Pangal sat back, her feet up on one of the medical supplies containers Doctor Fuze was taking down to demonstrate to the local Doctors or whatever they were called. “You know, people who don’t know you would take you seriously?”

“Gives us the advantage, Jaqui,” Hawle told his fellow Lappinean. “Always let the opponent think you’re stupid. Because then intelligence comes as a surprise. Speaking of which,” he added, “I’ve just had a thought. Soon as possible, after this meet up, I’ll need to contact Katara. See if she agrees to a plan I’ve just made…” He paused as the landing zone came into view. “Well, booger me,” he breathed.


Where once there had been a dozen, now there were ten times that number waiting for them. Hawle noticed at least ten camera crews and seven locals with what he took to be microphones under their jackets. He wondered if they were trying to pretend they didn’t have them so they could ambush him. Well, he was on to them. “All of a sudden,” he admitted, glancing at the bottle of Lappinean liquor to his side, “the welcome gift doesn’t seem quite as big…”

Colleen handed him the stuffed toy he'd seen in her room earlier – or, as Hawle recognised, a very good copy of it – and reminded him that Postain had made the exchange with a child. “According to the report, anyhow. What,” she smirked, “you didn’t think I had one of these so I could sleep better, did you?”

“Hmm…”

The landing proceeded as normal, with the flashes and cracks of media machinery capturing the several moments of note before Colonial president Gerek managed to get the group apart from the pomp, ceremony, speech making and oompah music. As soon as they’d made the official introductions and Doctor Fuze had checked the President’s system could take the powerful Lappinean brew, the group split; Fuze heading off to the hospital to teach Kokkerdans how to suck Eglets, as he put it. With Una and the President taking up a conference room to start discussions with the slightly ostentatious supply of food, Hawle had asked if he could contact his ship. “Of course,” the president had said, “but weren’t you just up there?”

Hawle nodded.

“You weren’t?”

“Huh?” Hawle looked confused but Una had reminded him of the brief on head shaking and nodding. The President smirked and Hawle knew he’d fallen for it. “Ugh. Yes,” he said, making sure to smile at the hilarious gag. “But I had a thought about one of the other troubles on the way down. Colleen can tell you how dangerous those thoughts are if not dealt with quickly.”


In the President’s Office, sat in the President’s chair, Hawle wondered what someone with less respect for the position might do. He considered ordering a military strike on some target or using the special comline to order a bagel. But, instead, after pressing a few buttons, he got through to the ship and asked to be transferred to engineering. After a moment’s pause, during which he spun around in the chair and wondered what the button on the arm rest did, he got himself put through to a grumpy Celican Vixen. “Good morning, Katara,” he said happily.

No sound came through from the Vixen, although the mouth movements looked like she was saying something grumpy in Celican. His Celican was pretty rusty but he assumed the fourth word wasn’t ‘heck’. “Oh, sorry.” He pressed the button on the arm rest again and sound was restored. “I have a question that needs an engineering standpoint and you’re the best available to me.”

<”I’ll probably regret asking,”> she told him straight, her words now being translated as usual by the implanted microbes, <”but what’s the question?”>

“How sensible would it be to turn the tractor beam into a wide beam propulsion unit? What sort of range could it cover at maximum spread?”

<”You mean set it to ‘push’, not ‘pull’? That should be easy enough. The main trouble,”> she went on, <”would be the fact that we’d need to get close to ‘the first object’ to make sure that we’re pushing the other objects at the same rate. Otherwise they might just do some damage to each other. Oh and, at maximum width, the beam could be about 500 miles wide. But that’d be pushing it.”>

Hawle nodded. “Right,” he gathered. “So you know what I’m thinking of doing?”

<”I can guess,”> Katara grunted. <”And you’re insane. But you knew that already.”>

“Absolutely. Get started on the modifications. Oh. Transfer me back to the bridge, would you?”

<”Yeah, you’ve given me things I need to do… Sir.”>

“I can’t understand why so many Captains have wanted her away from them,” Hawle muttered to himself before Raven’s features appeared on screen. He outlaid the plans to her before cutting off the line and heading back to render his temporary farewells to the others. And tell THEM the plans too. “I’ll leave the shuttle here as Jaqui’s trained in the piloting.”

The Jestavanian looked confused. “But, then, how will you get back to your ship?”

Aldair perked his ears straight. “Bit like this.” He tapped his comm. “Loper, one to beam up.”

“Still watching that show, I see,” Colleen remarked as the energy wave swept the Commander away. He waggled his fingers at her as he vanished.

“That…” the President said, clearly shocked.

“Is certainly something, sir, yes,” Colleen said gently, helping him back to the table.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Loved reading this chapter and thought it was great! Now we just need an Elena mention somewhere...
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SEVENTY-THREE

The planet on the viewer looked calm and serene but Bartleby was fully understanding how deceptive the camera could actually be here as the image fritzed slightly in the top left corner. Apparently Harra still hadn’t got anyone out to repair that camera. She shrugged her slim shoulders. He’d probably been busy. This was where they had to slow for the eighth turn on their way back to Karrin and, once again, they were anxious that no-one was there to ‘intercept’ them when they were vulnerable. Weapons were ready, Maldak was scouring as many frequencies as she could without making her ears bleed and Bartleby herself was laying in the new course. Or, rather, the old course in reverse. She could see the colonial defence platforms shifting in orbit around the beautifully green marble and knew this was the one thing that stood different to the route in. Thanks to them, those things were probably armed now. That’s why she was keeping to the exact route. Too close and they’d be perforated like an old, rip-off, newspaper coupon. She’d seen one or two on Micanna a few months back. It had tickled something inside her. The idea of actually taking something physical to an actual shop on a high street – the onboard one didn’t count – and exchanging credits for items was something novel. She’d collected a few things that day. Stuff she probably didn’t need but buying local was fun. She pulled her attention back to what she was doing.


Palla was up and about, under the watchful eye of Doctan Tyla. She coughed lightly as she walked towards the ship gymnasium. “Reckon I’m… gonna be fit enough… by the time we get to Karrin,” she asked hopefully. She’d barely had to lean on the Doctan or the wall on her way through the ship. She’d put on fifteen to twenty pounds in weight since rescue, her muscles were stronger… She was booked in to see the holo dentist to get initial treatments on her teeth. She was doing well, wasn’t she? The Jestavanian wasn’t sure she really wanted to leave Star Council space, even if she couldn’t fight now. Karrin seemed like a good compromise.

Tyla sucked her teeth slightly. “I’d really rather you stayed aboard ship a week or so longer, Willa,” she said, using the given name now Willa had been invalided out of the military. “I mean, you’re doing brilliantly but there’s a large difference in gravity forces on the muscles and bones between the ship and a planet. With your current strength, you may well find that you’re back in a chair and that may be simply because you’ve broken bones in a fall. Besides,” she added, “I reckon this lot’d send you back as an ambassador or something.”

The thought made Palla stand a little straighter, until a twinge in her back made her cringe and put a hand to it. “Ambassador...ow! Willa Palla. Sounds good. Do you still have Kalta on Karrin?”

“Yes,” Tyla replied, checking out her patient with a scanner. “Pinched nerve,” she advised, slapping the scanner shut.

“I could have a couple as pets,” Palla replied as they made it to the gym.


They walked through the main weights area, casting the odd glance at the well toned figures that made Palla consider how far she still had to go to get back in proper shape than she was in. Tyla opened the door to the private room and asked her to come in. “I’d much rather stay out here,” she remarked, getting an appreciative smile from a Canine lifting weights on a backboard.

“In here,” Tyla said, laughing as she gripped Palla tightly by the ear between finger and thumb and pulling the protesting patient in.

“Ow, ow, ow! I’m an officer, you know?”

“Not any more, you’re not. Come on. You can letch the aliens on the way out!”

The door closed behind them.


Martin Jul cleaned off the sheet from Palla’s bed and handed it to his nurse to plop into the recycling machine. “Have it scanned for contaminants again, Esme,” he told the feline. “Just in case. Pretty sure it’ll find nothing but best safe than dead.”

“Right, Doctor,” Esme Laskey replied as Martin got clean sheets down for the next occupant or Palla. “Nice to have all the beds back and available, even if it’s only for a few hours.

“Mmm,” Martin responded as a pillow fell onto his head. “Gives us room for the next disaster. Reminds me,” he added, “when’s Katz coming back in for his check up?”

“I’m going to get used to that name someday,” Esme replied, shaking her head as the biological scanner ran its beams over the discarded sheets. She checked her padd. “He’s here in two hours, Doctor.”

“Oh, good. Time for lunch.” He half grinned. “Am I going first or is it you today?”

The nurse dusted herself down and pretended to check the padd as she did every day. Lunch rota always depended on one thing and that was if she was hungry or not. This time? She was. “I’m up first,” she said. “Soon as this is sorted.” She hummed as the readout popped up. “Good news. Those new fur parasites the Doctan brought on board aren’t resistant to the standard shampoos. They’ve succumbed.”

“Interesting to see the long term effects there,” Martin replied. “Some parasites have benefits as well as negative effects. I‘ll consult with Tyla later. Just in case.”


“How’s my patient,” Flakk said to Cobalt as she entered the room. He wasn’t actually looking at her but she’d gotten used to that since meeting the Wolven. The Doctor finally turned towards her. “I got your message, by the way. Tell me nothing… strenuous… went on.”

“Absolutely not, sir,” Kelly replied, checking over what she was supposed to be doing now. “I know better than all that and slept on my sofa.”

“Good. Rest is fine.”

“How’d the final meetings go, sir?”

“Stop calling me sir, Kelly. I’m a Doctor, not a martinet. They’re on their way to developing a cure. They’re not there yet but they hope they can remove the threat of this damnable cowards weapon within a year. If they’re lucky.”

“You think they’ll fail?”

“A day’s not a long time in a war, Kelly. It’s an eternity. They have four hundred eternities in their standard year. Plenty of time to die. But they’re on their way.” The coldness of his eyes belied his words as he spoke again. “We’ve given them hope, Kelly. They may laud us for that in the future. Or they may curse us.”


The last turn. Finally it had come to the final turn. Almost two days travel and they were back where they’d met that Nebulan ship. Now, Bartleby thought, she had to be precise. The next destination was the minefield and they had to go through in exactly the same place as they had before. She set the course and engaged…

“I’m picking up ships,” Maldak said sharply.

Kridd ran the scans. “Confirmed, sir. Four ships. Their course seems to intersect us on the other side of the minefield.”

“Assume they know the layout,” Postain warned. “Bartleby…”

“On it, sir,” she replied, accelerating. “We don’t want to fight with our backs to the field!”
Commander Hawle. U.S.C. Loper. By the talented DDeer.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I do love the way that this chapter has come out here! Great work!
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SEVENTY-FOUR

Bartleby wondered if she could call it ‘putting her foot down’ when all she was actually doing to increase speed was press some buttons on a console. She supposed it was just a colloquialism and it was better than ‘waggle your fingers quickly’ or ‘turbo is terrific’ as her first Captain had insisted on using whenever he wanted to go to a higher velocity. She’d wondered if the enemy was going to let them go easily. At least now they knew they weren’t going to attack Karrin or ambush them there. Of course they’d known they’d have to be coming back this way to return Tyla to her people. Plus, of course, the Rodomont had to ‘thread the needle’ through the only hole they were aware of in the minefield ahead. Ahead, she laughed quietly. A destination that wasn’t in any sort of visual range yet. Ten hours at best speed. And their ships were comparable. Maybe even a bit faster than them. She wondered if she should take a break or… “Bartleby,” Postain commanded, shattering her personal reverie, “your shift’s done. Go get some rest or something. Citrin, take the helm.”

Helana watched as the Field-mouse Ensign practically hopped her way across the bridge before she logged herself out of the helm. “All yours for now, Hayseed,” she said, swinging herself out of the chair.

“Thanks, Helana,” the replacement chirped, dashing her own code in before Helana strode from the bridge..


Helana made her choice of direction and started her way down towards engineering. She was a little surprised to realise that she had an Erminean join her partway. “Good afternoon, Mrs Appleby,” she said lightly.

“Ah, the good Helana Bartleby,” Harmony replied. “How’s the helm?”

“As sprightly as always,” Helana told her. “I’ve missed you on the bridge these last few months.”

“Nice of you to say,” Harmony put a finger to her teeth. “Honestly, there’s not much for a telepath to do up there. We need to be close range to best detect duplicity and lies with our minds. If we’re just going from visual and audio clues the Command staff are just as good at it. Plus it’s a good idea to do my duty by wandering the halls, picking up random thoughts and the like.” She quirked an eyeridge at Helana. “Especially thoughts like that, Helana. Don’t let Yarkin catch you and Ensign Utran doing that. I’m not sure it’s legal,” she chided playfully. “But I’d better let you get on with it, I’ve got things to do and people to see. And I happen to know Utran’s off shift in five minutes…” She winked as Bartleby cringed visibly, her white teeth flashing from her brown fur.


“Beencheering peopleup,” Kerri asked from the ceiling as Harmony passed underneath. Harmony had known she was up there, in the conduit, but decided to let her think her surprise had worked by jumping slightly. The little Engineer giggled at the reaction. “Whatare youupto,” she asked.

“Oh,” Harmony said, craning her flexible neck effortlessly to look straight up at the Chipmunk, “I’m just going to sort out all the reports on the Jestavanians that I’ve taken over the last few weeks. IOC command asked me to. None of it’s admissible, of course…”

“...butit’s alluseful,” Kerri finished. “Before youask, I’m uphere checkingoverallthe circuitsbefore thenext disaster happens. It’sgonnatake time, butwe’veno disastersscheduled.”

Her smile faded slightly as Harmony’s face darkened slightly, thinking of the concerns Helana had been running through her head at a volume that had been hard to tune out. “I needtospeedup,don’tI,” Kerri asked.

“I’ll say ‘yes’ and let it go at that. Even if I didn’t know what you just said.”

Kerri watched her go before a voice spoke from behind her. “Are you back with me, Kerri,” Corncob asked, from beside the console they were checking. “We do need to get on.”

“Iknow, I know,” Kerri complained, scurrying across. “All pawstothe pump, sotospeak.”

“Who speaks like that,” Corncob asked curiously.

Kerri paused, raising her head in thought. “Me,mostly,” she confessed before laughing. Her Mican associate joined in as they worked.


Senny Appleby, for her part, was running yet another simulation dogfight from the holographic room, partially to make sure the fliers could work together as well as they had during the last fight and partially to make sure the system was up and running correctly. Kilbitz’s hobby had proven essential in the last fight and the Castoran was keen to make use of that, if she could get the Mephidian and the Human to stop relaying coy, ‘coded’, messages to each other. There were no hard and fast rules about fraternisation between pilots but it was definitely frowned upon. It could, after all, lead to being distracted from their duty. “Carbury,” she instructed, close up on Katz.” She grinned as she thought an evil thought. In this simulation, where the two teams were against each other, things were going quite well for one team. They had, after all, nailed three of the six opposition. She tapped into the friend/foe systems and prepared things before she called up Kilbitz on a private line. “Kilbitz,” she said sweetly.

<”I don’t like that tone,”> her pilot replied. <”I’m not going to like this, am I?”>

“Depends on your sense of humour,” Senny mused. “We’re preparing the fighters for everything, correct?”

<”I… believe so.”>

“We’ve never prepared for the most unpredictable event,” Senny told her. “The pilot who switches sides. Sometimes you just can’t trust people, can you?”

Kilbitz groaned as she knew what was coming next. “It’s all part of the game.” Senny pressed the final button to put the two potential mates on opposite sides. Her two potential aces, she figured. Time to see who was best.


An hour later, Bartleby sat up in bed. She was happy, yet concerned and wondered how Utran could sleep at times like these, when she couldn’t. She supposed the Cubannan Lappinean didn’t actually know they were a few hours away from a battle and he’d been on his feet all day whereas she’d been sat in a chair for hours. She needed a sandwich. Leaving her lover sleeping, she slid out of the bed and padded across to the replication machine. She didn’t feel like a salad so she ordered a pastry with eggs and bacon bits. Was it really meat if replicated? She sat on the sofa and started eating.

A pair of ears appeared over her shoulder as her similarly unattired beau kissed her neck. “I take it things are quite tense on the bridge,” he asked, indicating the food.

“It will be in under half a day,” she said after swallowing the last of her food.

“Then you’ll need to be relaxed and fresh, Helana,” he said gently. “You need rest. C’mon.” He took her back to the bed and held her close until she dozed off.
Commander Hawle. U.S.C. Loper. By the talented DDeer.
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Re: U.S.C. RODOMONT

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I am still enjoying everything that you are writing with the story! But I feel like it needs more Hawle. XD
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