Atlas XIV
Jethro
checked on the status of his unit. They had reorganized the TOE in the
aftermath of taking the vast ship. Now he had another headache to deal with.
Each
fire team had a block of sectors to monitor and act as SWAT. So, one fire team
had nine sectors to respond to. It was a lot of ground to cover. They were on
ten hours, off four, and then on for another ten. They were also on call. They
each had up to six robots to control, but the robots were not as good as an
actual fellow soldier.
They
were backstopped by Marines in powered armor in a few hot spots but they were
few and far between. Many of the powered armor troops had to also guard
critical areas of the ship.
Marines
and MPs were guarding specific areas or acting as a liaison with the Horathians
that they had deemed trustworthy. There had been a few incidents and several
Marines had been killed in an ambush, but so far nothing too earth shattering.
There
were NCIS and JAG teams scattered about the ship too, doing interviews. They
and the engineering teams were the most annoying. They had to have guards too
and some were damn annoying. A couple of the JAGs wanted a personal escort of
Cadre.
Not
going to happen,
he thought sourly.
<<(O)>>
Bast
monitored Jethro's emotional state along with a host of other things on her
list. She was being pulled in a variety of directions just like the other AI.
They had gotten support from the ship AI, but it was still an ongoing struggle
to keep up with all of the demands for their attention. Luckily they had some
support from the ships in the fleet. Batmobile's ship AI, Alfred, and
some other ships had come into the main bay and docked in order to directly
help in the network.
She was
looking forward to the downtime to allow her to process and sort through the
mess. An organic would think of the downtime as rest and recovery, and many
still did not understand just how vital it was for her kind as well as their
own.
<<(O)>>
Sergeant
Sabu McClintock liked the enemy combatants. Well, okay, the ones that were dumb
enough to carry a weapon and fight back. He couldn't do much about the ones
that gave him a dirty look at the moment.
The die
hards were the ones that were making things oh-so-difficult and yet simplifying
things at the same time. They were outing themselves and painting targets on
their backs. But they were keeping him busy. It was the ones in the crowds, the
sneaky shits, that had some of his people worried. They were fully expecting a
knife in the back at any turn.
It was
enough to make any good soldier paranoid. They could only let their guard down
in areas that were completely cleared of Horathians. Even then peace and
security was relative; they'd had a couple of incidents of people trying to
slip explosives into safe zones, or blow plasma conduits to flood areas with
plasma that would destroy everything that it touched.
He'd
heard about the guy who'd strapped explosives to a baby and tried to hand it
off to a corpsman.
Nice
people, he mused darkly.
Well, it
was to be expected; after all, they were technically uninvited guests. Not
really guests, he corrected himself, new landlords.
At least
they'd gotten the leaders to bed. All of the Horathian leadership were in
stasis. The theory was that by cutting off the head of the snake the body could
thrash and cause some damage but not cause as much trouble.
Honestly,
he didn't see them as a snake. More along the line of a flock of headless
chickens.
If they
ever did find another leader, things could get sticky.
He had
another two hours on shift and then he was down for four hours. He was looking
forward to a break though he dreaded looking into his sister's status. Word was
that they were going to decide if they should try to rebuild her here or ship
her back home for Zuhura and the medics to do the job.
Considering
how complex it was to regenerate limbs and other bits, his money was on
shipping her back in stasis. That was a shame; she should share in the victory.
Or at least help cleanup after it, he mused.
Typical,
he thought as he keyed a memo.
"Really?
Writing a reminder to tease your sister about leaving her mess to clean
up?" his AI teased.
"Something
like that," he said as he finished the memo and then got back to work.
<<(O)>>
Major
Snorkle nodded as he read the latest reports. So far they were holding. Naval
officers were taking charge. Integrating the sleepers into their ranks was both
helping and a hindrance. Many were suffering time-related trauma. That was
fully understandable, though they needed to be identified and either given the
chance to process off duty or find another coping mechanism while still
remaining useful.
The
medics had offered to put some who had been suffering severe symptoms back into
stasis; however, that had backfired. They'd had a couple of violent incidents.
Fortunately, none fatal.
One of
the best things that they had going for them was that the enemy was unorganized
and uncoordinated. They couldn't communicate with each other well. Attempts to
do so were identified, monitored, and forces were directed to capture them once
their locations were narrowed down.
He
rolled his shoulders. The one spot of good news was that all of the injured
were off ship, in hospitals, or in stasis like Suqi McClintock. The captured
Horathian leadership was as well.
He'd
feel a lot better when they were off ship too. For the moment, they were stored
in the stasis bays that had formally held the previous Federation skeleton
crew.
<<(O)>>
Minotaur
watched a civilian shipyard worker break down. She cried softly until a
coworker found her and then knelt to talk to her. He made certain she was not
going to become violent and then tagged a bot to monitor the situation before
moving his attention elsewhere.
The AI
was seeing that a lot with the civilian side. The AI had set up their own
forums with things to watch out for and people to check on regularly. He had
shielded his principle from such unwanted attention. Ox was still struggling
with some of his PTSD but had a handle on it. Throwing himself into the work
helped a great deal.
Speaking
of which … he noted the JAG officer approaching Ox and hit record. "This
should be interesting," he stated for his principle's ears as he alerted
him to trouble coming his way.
<<(O)>>
"This
should be interesting," Minotaur's voice said for his ears only. The
Tauren's big ears twitched and then he saw an icon on his HUD coming up behind
him.
"You
there, Cadre," the attorney stated.
He
turned. The woman was dressed in a skinsuit with body armor strapped over it.
She had a sidearm strapped to her hip and a helmet.
"Make
sure that there are no power interuptions to the number six grid. The last flux
burned out a life support module."
"How?"
a navy tech argued. "They should be buffered, right?"
"They
bypassed the breakers and hard wired it into the net."
The
human tech grimaced and then shook his head. "Stupid."
"Stupid,
yes. In a hurry or just lazy. Either way, we don't have the spares right now to
replace the breakers so we're flying without a net. So beware."
"You
there," the strident voice said.
"Dismissed,"
Ox said as he turned to the lieutenant.
"Yes
… Lieutenant Yerenski?" he asked mildly. A message from Major Snorkle's AI
asking for a status report came up on his inbox along with six others from
naval officers.
"I
need to get to the number six hold and interview the prisoners there."
"Yes, ma’am, it is that way," he said as
Minotaur pulled up a map to indicate the direction. "Take the port
corridor and then get to the lift, then down seven levels. There are security
teams at the lifts to direct you if you get lost."
"Or
she could use the map on her HUD," Minotaur said for his ears only.
"I
require an escort," she stated. "Clear your schedule. I'm assigning
you to my security detail for the duration."
"I'm
afraid not, ma'am."
Her face
clouded. "I'm an officer giving you a direct order, Sergeant …," her
face cleared as he felt her reach through her WiFi to tag his ID implants.
"… Chief Warrant Officer Ox?" she asked. She blinked and then her
eyes went wide. Instinctively, she came to attention as the ID tag showed a CMH
icon. "Ah …?"
Ox blinked
slowly as she came to attention. He normally resented how some people reacted
to his having the medal. He now understood why Jethro tried to hide it. But in
this case, it was proving amusing and useful.
The
Congressional Medal of Honor award meant that he was supposed to be saluted by
anyone else who had not recieved one irrigardless of rank. They were also
generally deferential to him. He could see her embarrassment as her cheeks
flushed as she came to attention and saluted.
He came
to attention and returned the salute.
"Sorry,
Chief, I didn't recognize you."
"Not
a problem," he stated mildly.
"It's
not like there are a lot of Taurens in the Cadre," Minotaur said acidly in
his ear. He flexed his jaw slightly to let the AI know that the sidebar wasn't
helping.
"Ma'am,
if you don't have a map, I can upload it to you. We are currently in a safe
zone. There are no Horathians in this bank of sectors."
She
frowned but then nodded reluctantly.
"If
that is all?"
She
nodded again. She still looked embarrassed.
"Good.
I've got to get back to work. I need to be in four places at the same
time," he said as he huffed a theatrical sigh and left. "Yes, Major,
I'll be there," he said loudly enough for her to hear.
She
blinked and watched him leave.
<<(O)>>
