Jethro 4 Recruiting Drive Snippet 1

Well, since Mike commented on my blog about the snippet going out on FB, I figured it's time to post it here. :)

Oh, if you are interested, (which I am) Mike Kotcher (Minion Mike on the FB group, also Lieutenant Mike in the Wandering Engineer universe) has released a sequel to his Samir in Argos series.
 http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WS6203Y/ref=wl_it_dp_o_pC_nS_ttl?_encoding=UTF8&colid=3BVT4C3L8P9IZ&coliid=IDSB05TCM8EQI

Very cool. I plan on picking up my copy when I get through my backlog.

Anyway, on to the snippet:

ACT I

Chapter 1

Gunnery Sergeant Jethro McClintock, black NeoPanther and Recon Marine recovered in rehabilitation rapidly once the medics had discharged him from the security suite in the hospital complex of the Naval Annex. He was puzzled by the changes in his body. He was also puzzled over the nanites in his body and how they had allowed him to survive his most recent brush with death. Not many managed to suck vacuum and live to tell of the experience he thought. Not that it had been enjoyable, not at all. It had been an act of defiance and desperation, breaching the airlock to kill his opponents in the machine shop. But it had damn near killed him in the process.

While he slept his A.I. Bast had reshaped his implants. He tried to talk to the A.I. but she hadn't spoken to him again. He wondered if she would, or if it would take his being in his armored suit to do so. She kept it nearby, an ever present guardian of his person. A reminder that he needed such protection, something he didn't want to think about but had to if he was going to survive for long.

Many also didn't live long with a 'fatwa', a kill on sight order from the Shadow League hanging over their heads like a sword of Damocles. 

She refused to tell him what she was doing; only flashing her eyes redly at him when he became insistent. He had strange cravings for food from time to time, and odd substances that would ordinarily turn his stomach. He wasn't certain if it was all a part of the healing process or Bast at work.

Bast was a legacy from his past, a piece of his heritage like his flat black suit of powered combat armor. The most powerful and sophisticated suit in the Federation's arsenal, possibly the only Cadre suit left in existence. Bast was a part of the suit as much as a part of him. He was still coming to terms with all its implications.

For months she had seemed like a black and gold cat on his HUD, quiet and reserved. She'd seemed young, a kitten, but as she had 'grown' she'd matured more and more into a Neofeline shape. Not that she showed it much. She wanted him in the suit as much as possible, which wasn't possible while he had been stuck in his bed.

She'd even locked him in the damn suit when he'd finally agreed. It had taken a direct command from Captain Logan for her to reluctantly let him back out. He'd started to get claustrophobic in the suit too, something she perhaps had recognized. But she was still not talking much, he thought, eying her image for a moment.

When she did communicate it was more of a sense of feelings and impressions, not much dialog. She had spoken once but had refused to speak again despite his entreaties to do so. She would vocalize, like when he insisted on coming to the memorial, but not in words.

He'd given up on pressing her for the moment. Today belonged to someone else he thought darkly. He finally had to deal with the Matriarch's death and the small part he'd played in it. She had been executed as a ploy, a simple thing to piss him off enough to allow Miss Persephone the opportunity to get inside his head and make him screw up. It had almost worked.

She was dead. He wasn't. He shook himself slightly, getting a handle on his rising ire.

Another problem was coming to his attention more and more, dealing with the vacuum of the Matriarch's untimely death. She had been the last Neo clan leader in the star system. Now everyone who had been near her, who had looked to her for guidance and aid was scrambling for a rudder. Some had tried to latch onto Jethro at the memorial despite the heavy security detail at the formal gathering. For once he was glad they were around.

He was glad that the press had been excluded. Oh Knox was there, but he was there as a friend to the Matriarch; not as a reporter. The human occasionally smiled politely to those who noted his presence and looked him up and then moved on. Jethro nodded to him in passing. Knox was dressed in a conservative business suit of charcoal gray. His wife had been in attendance at one point but had been called away. Jethro's enhanced hearing had picked up their conversation easily. The wife hadn't been at all happy about being in the presence of so many neo predators. Tough for her he thought with a slight sniff of disdain.

During the memorial Jethro found out the Matriarch had also been helping many of the alien species in the star system. Many were there at the memorial or had sent representatives. The Alien-Neo tax had been repealed but no one was ready to forgive or forget quite easily or soon, he noted. He caught smatterings of talk about forming a lobby or continuing the exodus out of the star system from time to time.

He tried his best to handle it. He gave a few curt nods to those who approached him but he felt on edge. It wasn't just him; even Bast was watching everyone with narrowed suspicious eyes. He wanted to instinctively trust those attending the memorial in uniform but even they had his fur rising instinctively. All but his old friends like Valenko and Hurranna.

The bear hadn't stayed long; he'd popped in then had to pop right back out. Duty called, Jethro thought, proud that his friend had gotten promoted to O-5 Captain Senior Grade and was the ranking Marine officer in the star system. He had his work cut out for him though, Colonel Forth had resented the Navy's insistence on running Marine officers from ROTC and college to the academy without going to boot camp as tradition as his principles dictated. He had turned Pyrax into a dumping ground of half trained screw ups, malcontents, and those who had risen through the ranks past their abilities. Now Horatio needed to get his house in order before turning it over to the new administration. So the Colonel had saddled Valenko with the house cleaning.

Jethro wished he could be of more help, not simply handling admin duties for the bear. He hated that he was still on light duty pending full medical clearance. Clearance that was dragging its feet as usual. And since JAG and military intelligence was also involved... he fought to keep his tail still. He also kept himself sternly in check. Snarling or exposing his claws wasn't wise in this group he reminded himself.

There were speeches from various people, and even a couple local celebrities in attendance. M'wvekii was there, but she was swamped by people so he couldn't talk to his aunt like he would have liked. She did look good in her sarong. Serene, composed, and very much grieving for the Matriarch. The Neopanther did his best to stay in the shadows away from the worst of the grievers and chest beaters as well as the celebrities and the cluster of hanger-ons that followed them around.

M'wvekii took charge of the memorial as master of ceremonies. She kept everyone brief and on topic. She guided them through a tour of the Matriarch's long life and her good deeds and then asked that they all remember her wisdom and do their best to follow in her footsteps. Jethro nodded when her eyes fell on him. The leopardess nodded back and flicked her ears once to him.

Near the end of the memorial a pair of representatives of a clan of cat changelings came to him. “I'm sorry about your loss Gunnery Sergeant... McClintock,” the female said, lashing her tail. He nodded politely. Cat changelings were an odd bunch. They had a mostly human body but a feline mods like heads, ears, eyes, claws, and tails. The mods were a variety, some had blended human and animal features, others were more cat than human. Sometimes they interbred with true Neos but many kept to themselves in tight knit clans. He was fairly certain Doctor Thornby was aware of how inbred they were.

They moved with lithe grace like a cat but they looked... wrong. “She will be missed,” the female said, turning to the Matriarch's portrait. He glanced at her profile. She was a tawny brown but with short fur on her body and a full head of long tresses on her head. She wore a black gown with a silk wrap. A black collar was around her throat with a tiny silver bell attached at the center under her chin. He recognized it, it was a common sight among some Neocats and dogs. The females loved the bell for some odd reason.

“That she will be,” Jethro said softly. He'd missed Hrris's memorial. That bothered him. He was grateful that someone had dug out a small picture of the neolion and had put it next to his grandmother. “And Hrris too. They didn't deserve that sort of death,” he said.

“No one does,” the female said, looking at the smaller portrait and then away. She sniffled.

Jethro's eyes went vacant as he remembered his grandmother. She hadn't been truly related to him by blood but he had loved her as a grandmother anyway. Many of the Neos and apparently many of the other people here had done the same. He wondered how many had been raised by the elderly Neolioness. Quite a few, he thought, eyes briefly touching on a familiar lynx shape wending its way through the crowd before he looked away.

“They got them though. Or I heard you did,” the female said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Oh yes. Yes I did. Hrriss was with me actually, they... well, I can't talk about it,” he said lamely as Bast hissed softly on his HUD. He flicked his ears. “Open investigation,” he said when the female eyed him.

She nodded. “Look Gunny... can I call you Gunny?” He flicked his ears and nodded slightly. She seemed relieved for some reason. “Look Gunny, we need... we need your help. Ordinarily I wouldn't dream of bothering you at this delicate time but...” she flicked her hands and ears.

Her partner growled softly. He looked at the male. He had the look of a domestic with his tuxedo coat of black and white. But his ears weren't on the top of his head they were on the sides and shaped more like a humans. He eyed the panther then looked away. “She was helping us,” the tomcat rumbled.

“Yes. Which has left us rudderless at a critical moment. She mentioned your name and said you were helping to fund people like us who wish to emigrate but can't.”

“I see. Are you being forced to stay?” Jethro asked.

“Oh no, it's not that,” the female replied with a shake of her head.

“Far from it. They'd love to turf us all out,” the tom growled softly. His growl alerted a few people nearby. They looked up or turned their ears to their conversation. He looked around and then shook himself slightly.

“We... we could use all the help we can get. We've got kits. They deserve a better future than here...” the female said, touching Jethro's arm imploringly.

“I don't know what I can do. I'll see if I can talk to someone. See if I can help that way. I can't make any promises though,” Jethro said.

The female's startlingly bright blue eyes searched his for a moment then she nodded. Her upper lip twitched as if she was twitching her nonexistent whiskers. “Thank you.”

“No promises,” the tom echoed in annoyance.

“We'll take what aid we can,” the female said with a tart rejoinder over her shoulder to her companion. The tom grunted. The female smiled a tight lipped smile to Jethro and then adjusted her wrap. “I heard Agnosta is nice.”

“It is that. The quickest way to get there is either to sign on to the Marines or get in with a military contractor,” Jethro said thoughtfully. He eyed the tom. He looked like he could serve but from his expression he had no interest. He put him firmly out of mind.

“Barring that, you could get a ride if someone was attached to you. You could get transport as a military dependent of someone being transferred there or through the system to elsewhere,” Jethro offered.

“I see,” the female said, adjusting her shift. “I wish we could take notes,” she said, smiling slightly to Jethro.

“The only other way to go is to pay for passage. Since the military is sending ships back and forth twice a week now I believe the ticket price has dropped considerably,” Jethro said. Bast flashed the credit cost on his HUD, and then put up the cost from a month ago. “It's dropped by nearly half since last month,” he offered.

“I didn't know that,” the female said, lightly stroking his arm with her fingertips. He looked down and noted that her claws were more like fingernails than feline claws. She also had long human like fingers and hands. When she realized he was looking she stopped and dropped her hand with a mew.

“We really must be going,” the tom growled from behind her, taking her by the arm. Jethro opened his mouth to object but the female just smiled slightly to him.

“Another time perhaps,” she purred.

“You'd better not Marishka,” the tom growled, just loud enough for Jethro to overhear. “Behave,” he growled warningly.

“He knows I love to see him jealous,” the female purred with a light tinkly laugh as she let him pull her away. Jethro sniffed in appreciation, finally realizing she was using some sort of perfume or something else.

“You could also work your passage,” Jethro said lamely, loud enough for them and others near to overhear. She turned and wiggled her fingers in a goodbye.

Hurranna saw him talking with them and came over to his side as one by one the changelings left. “They finally decided to shit and get off the pot?” She asked near the panther's elbow, nodding her chin to the departing female.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Jethro asked; turning and looking down to the Neolynx. She was dressed as he was, in her formal Marine dress blues.

Hurranna flicked her ears in a shrug. “Oh the usual, shit or get off the pot. Figure it out. I've heard of them. Tom, Dick, Harry, Mariska and the others. They can afford to get here for the funeral but can't afford to leave the star system.” She shook her head in disgust. “The matriarch was after them to leave their colony. Now they want to do so and want transport. Plus money to help set them up wherever they end up.”

Jethro groaned. “Oh lovely. I'm not a bank!” He growled. Apparently because he helped out people some of them saw him as a target, an easy mark to go to with a sob story. He shook his head, fighting to keep his temper in check. “But they don't need it! They can stay!”

“Exactly,” the lynx said in a dust dry response. “It's not your problem,” Hurranna insisted. “Nor ours. They made their beds, let them lie in it. They were offered help before but they dragged their feet.”

“No, we can help them,” Jethro insisted. “If they want help, we can do it. It's what she would have wanted us to do.”

Hurranna winced. “You would say that.”

“Well, it's true. And you know it,” he said.

She snorted. “Okay, genius, how?”

“'I'll think of something,” Jethro said with his own ear flick. “We've got time now.”

“True.”

“Are you still stuck in...” Hurranna grimaced. “Crap. I've got to go. That was my implants,” she grimaced as she wolfed down a replicated tuna snack she'd picked up from the hors d'oeuvres table nearby. She chased that down with a slug of water. “We'll catch up later. I've got another day of leave coming to me next week.”

“Count on it. See you soon,” he said. She nodded and left at a trot for the nearest exit. He watched her go.

He toyed with the thought of using military transport to get the group out. In theory he or another Marine could marry someone like Mariska. They would then get the free pass to Agnosta or whatever posting he ended up at, then they could get a no fault divorce on the other end and wash their hands over the whole affair. He wouldn't take advantage of her, though he wasn't sure he could deny her charms if she turned... insistent let's say, he thought with a grin. Bast eyed him on his HUD with disfavor. Obviously she was getting something from that train of thought. He let it die a natural death.

Another method was to get them in and out one at a time under military transport as someone interested in joining up. He didn't like that idea though, it was tantamount to unlawful in his eyes so he set the thought aside right away.

Then he had another thought. How could he get them and others to the annex in the first place? They obviously couldn't go to the annex itself, they didn't have clearance. But they had to get here... he frowned thoughtfully as his mind raced. Mariska and her partner had obviously gotten here, so they could make it this far. But a group? Stage them through a nearby colony before they got to Anvil... Would that work?

“Mariska, where have I heard your name before,” he murmured. Silently Bast put up an ad for him to look at. His eyes scanned it. The female had traveled to Anvil after being offered a job on the station to replace Hrriss. She had accepted when she had heard the Neo/Alien law had been in the process of being nullified.

“She's got enough money then. One month, maybe two at her job and she'd have enough for a ticket off of Anvil to Agnosta. Or money to get her friends and family to Anvil in small groups,” he growled softly. According to the footnote in the article the female had held out for more perks until Anvil's administration had started to shop for someone else. Jethro shook his head. He wasn't sure where Bast had dug that little tidbit up.

“She's obviously looking a gift horse in the mouth,” he said. Bast nodded. “And trying to take advantage of me. Thanks for watching my back,” he said to her. She flicked her ears and then went back to watching the crowd as it slowly dispersed.

<(>~^~<(>

Updates

   Well, things are slowly progressing, despite some setbacks medically.
I was forced to take some time off, I've apparently gotten a bit too obsessed about writing, some other stuff, death of a friend, and the cat medical issues. My BP went through the roof. (200 over 110) But I've gotten back on track, or I'm trying to now.

Here is the cover of Jethro 4 Recruiting Drive. I did this right after I passed the book on to the betas.

   It is still in the hands of Joshua and Gord, so I haven't sent it to Rea yet as I planned last week. I'm going to give both fella's a poke this week and see if I can get a progress report and ETA out of them. :)

   In other news, since I had to take some time off, it didn't mean I hadn't abandoned working on Founding of the Federation short stories 1 Stepping Stones, it just meant I had to take it slower... I managed to get a few bits tucked in there, some in PR, some in J5, some in the first Reborn Federation short story book... and cleaned up a few future books up for later.

   I also modeled some more of the characters from J4 in Daz3D. I'll post them later. (you can see a few on the cover image above) A few like the characters for the air crew for the below ship will wait until I get around to modeling the ship itself...

   It has been hot here, (95!) so I've struggled to get back into writing. I'm currently considering working on modeling the Marine attack craft that is in J4 and a couple of the short stories. I call it the

"Bell-Ichim 222 Osprey Attack Craft" It will be my own version of this:

   Mine will be a dedicated gunship along the vague lines of a famous TV helicopter... I bought a nurby/greeble pack to help the process along but I'm still stuck in the "OMG it's a lot of work" dithering phase. lol

   I'd like to get the characters, my notes, tech stuff, and models of the ships/craft together with Jory (and the star system maps he's working on) into the Wiki he started. Eventually. Hopefully. Maybe...sooner or later? :P

   I did get another short story for Stepping Stones done this week, and another almost finished. It is nearly 1/3rd finished. Hopefully I can pick up the pace this week.

...And I've just been informed I'm being dragged off to Dairy Queen to spend time with the family. Then they get to sit around and watch the race while I muddle through other things. :)

That's that for this! Until next time!

 

Battle Lines have been drawn... the countdown has begun!

    Okay, (deep breath, exhale...) we had a bit of a snafu, apparently the manuscript got lost in the mail. (email, seriously! Not kidding!) But I poked Goodlifeguide and we got it sorted out this morning. And then I got shanghaied by my family today so well, it's just been uploaded!
    So, it should be published within the next 12-36 hours. Keep an eye on Amazon/B&N for it. I'll try to check and when it does come up I'll post the links here.

This is what you are looking for:

EDIT: it is on Amazon. Thank you Daniel for pointing it out:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VZH4MKQ/

Here it is on B&N:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1121722448?ean=2940151523318

Description:

Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons mission to the secret Lemnos facility that changed his life was what some would call, a success. But he returned changed, he had lost one of his AI to rampancy after fighting an Xeno AI Wraith, and his greatest AI, his confidant Commander Sprite had chosen to leave him.
He didn't return to civilization alone however. He brought with him over a hundred precious sleepers, officers and enlisted personnel ready to help rebuild the Federation once more, along with petabytes of precious blueprints and data, designed by some of the greatest minds of the Federation.
But before they can begin to forge a new fleet they have to stop the rampaging Horathian Empire in it's tracks. Rear Admiral Amadeus White has been assigned to push the enemy back and keep them back while Admiral Irons and Subert work on building new ships. Admiral Subert has his own problems to deal with in Pyrax. He needs time, time to adjust, time to clean up the mess. Time to build more ships.
But the enemy within and without won't wait. Napoleon said it best, "You can ask me for anything but not time!"  
The Battle Lines have been drawn!

Battle Lines Snippet 4

    For those of you who don't know, Rhea has BL and will be finishing it sometime this week. As soon as she does, and as soon as I process it, I'll be shooting it off to Goodlifeguide.com for final formatting...
Okay, here it is...:

Chapter 2

 

Convoy 8b arrived in Agnosta in a chain of light explosions. To some it looked like a freight train of ships coming in, all neatly in line with the escorting frigates and destroyer Mary Apple on their flanks. The static discharge and rippling of space time as they exited hyperspace was eye searing.

The convoy carried more than a cargo of precious equipment and recruits however. Newly promoted Rear Admiral Phil Subert was among the passengers.

He had recovered from his injuries and was ready to get to work. They were planning a brief stay in the star system however. The 6 freighters, 1 transport, and 3 warships passed on their IFF and greetings to the picket force and orbital fortresses protecting the jump point zone and then lumbered in toward the blue and green orb.

Some of the passengers would be getting off Admiral Subert reminded himself. All of the 943 Marine enlisted recruits as well as some of the Marine sleepers from Lemnos.

There was a single lonely Army officer, newly promoted Captain Poon Yee. He would be joining them on Agnosta. Captain Yee had come up through artillery but was the only army officer they had. Admiral Irons had put him in charge of rebuilding the army using the Marine base and training as his initial template. It was a daunting task, one Captain Poon seemed unsure about.

There was some concern about the division of resources. The Marines were the traditional spearhead of the Federation ground forces. Unlike the Army they were multitaskers, handling many different jobs and roles beyond the ever visible guards that the public saw or dealt with. They had their own air arm as well as special forces. They were light on artillery and armor however. They were the ones who were sent in to board ships or stations or to form a beachhead on a planet. Then the Army came in to consolidate the beachhead and then move inward to take over a planet.

Normally a smart native population surrendered once a hostile force had control of their orbitals. That wasn't always the case however, so invasions became a necessity. Even the threat of one could force a capitulation and eventually surrender. But once a world was captured you had to deal with its sometimes restive and unruly population. Terrorism, IEDs, and other common ground threats had to be dealt with.

The Army would be needed to garrison captured worlds, sure, but not for some time to come. They of course needed to get the ball rolling on recruiting and training the forces, but with the Marines needing the lion share of the warm bodies to handle ship, station, and invasion forces the Captain had offered to transfer his commission to the Marines. Admiral Irons had asked him to stay the course for the time being. They could always fold the army forces into the Marine corps if it didn't work out.

233 recruits who had expressed a desire to join the army were in the convoy with him. Colonel Forth's people had already polled the Marine records for officers and enlisted who had expressed a desire to join the army. Two ensigns in the star system had come forward right away, both were descendants of army officers, or so they said.

One noncom and 1 enlisted had expressed an interest but were elsewhere. Sergeant Snorkle and Private Bailey had on record that they were descendants of Army personnel. Both had expressed repeated interest in a transfer but both were on their way to Protodon with Admiral White.

It would take time, at least 48 hours, to unload once they were in orbit. The convoy ships would then be refueled and reloaded with returning freight and passengers and then sent on out once more.

Admiral Subert, 6 precious ansible cores, along with all the material destined for the Pyrax shipyard and ships were destined for Pyrax. Ships like Tris and 779 made regular runs between Pyrax and Agonsta but they could only carry so much per load. The loads had to be prioritized for shipment. Some things like drives and reactors had priority over others. It was a given that the admiral and the ansibles would be on the first flight.

Admiral Subert had 2 members on his staff. He was lucky, both were sleepers. Amadeus didn't have any or so he'd heard. Saul was shaping up well. Ensign, no, Lieutenant Junior Grade Roman Taylor. The young man was one of two doctors in the sleepers. He was good though the admiral was fairly confident the gangly man would come into his own once they were in Pyrax. For the time being he left the lad alone to his 'research.'

He'd tried to get his hands on newly promoted Lieutenant Commander Yan Li Wong. The raven was a genius with ships, he'd be a great asset running the yard. But John had been adamant, the raven had been immured in Antigua digging into the problems with the downloads from Lemnos while also helping Commander Sindri with the yard expansion projects. He shook his head. He knew he couldn't have his way all the time, but that sucked.

Phil wasn't certain of Lieutenant Colonel Forth. He was a character, of that he was certain. A quiet man, but apparently the jarheads worshiped him. They'd had a bit of friction over ansible discussions. Nothing major, but enough to let the visiting flag officer know that the Colonel was both stubborn and used to seeing things his way.

He wasn't too keen about how presumptive some of the officers were. Some like Forth hadn't been trained, hell, they hadn't gone to an academy, college... he shook his head. But John was right, it was a chicken and the egg sort of thing. He'd needed officers and noncoms to train the following generation. They had caught up, or so he said. Phil wasn't so sure. He had noted a lot of point failures in some of the people John had so much faith in. It was time someone did something about it. Which was what he intended once he got to Pyrax and took over.

It bothered him that a jumped up yeoman and engineering tech was a captain in charge of the yard and the entire star system. What had John been thinking? He shook his head.

One of the first things he did once they were off the jump point and in transit across the system was to order 1 corvette to go to B-452c, strip the satellites there and remain on station in the empty cross roads system until the next convoy passed through. They would return after 2 months and be replaced by another ship. The picket commander was not happy about the orders but she took on fuel and stores and then moved out within an hour of receiving them.

Admiral Subert made certain the lieutenant, nor others, called Admiral Irons behind his back to complain or try to jump his command. Once the corvette was gone he returned to the anticipated tour of the facilities.

The naval base in orbit was simple, a complex of warehouses and housing facilities to handle the load of people and material passing through the star system. Warehouse stations were under construction at the B-452c jump point but they had only just been started. Once they were up and running along with a tank farm convoy ships would be able to make the turn around right on the jump point, unload and reload in a day and then return to B-452c.

Shipping the material that way was a bit of a pain, after all they had to load and unload in Agnosta. They also had a bit of a bottleneck with the ships coming and going from Pyrax to Agnosta. Apparently Captain Logan had gotten a leg up on the process by stockpiling material in Agnosta's orbital warehouses but the ships were barely keeping ahead of the demand. Admiral Subert made a note to do something about that when he got to Pyrax.

He was amused by the orbital training facilities for the Marines. They had towed an asteroid into orbit, hollowed out caverns in it in order to use it as a space training facility. Airlocks and structures were attached to the surface in various places. It was crude but effective. He nodded in approval.

And the news is official...

     I had blood work done earlier this month (H1ac was 5.6!!) and I finally got the good news in official capacity.

    I came back from the doctor's elated this morning, he made it official and took me OFF the diabetic list! I am no longer considered diabetic. I have NOT been taking meds for over a year and my H1ac has been 5.7 or below this entire time, which proved my point. He said Pre-diabetic yes, but NOT diabetic. Very cool. I'll take that and keep working on it and other things. :D

     Oh, I've been making some small progress on the Jethro 4 Recruiting Drive cover. I am hoping to get a lot more done tomorrow (maybe, if dad being home doesn't destroy my plans) ... I got the uniform from www.Poseraddict.com this morning, so now I just need to put the pieces together and work on Jethro's fruit salad and other stuff...

      I watched Halo Nightfall last night. It was... meh. I didn't know what to expect. Cool in some small ways, but I wish they'd thrown that money at the Spartan Ops and gone whole hog that way instead. It would have been stellar there, with a lot more scope and room to play.
     I've always wanted to do a 3D movie/game for my books. (for instance Afraid of the Dark was geared for a 3D game) I know some animators use game engines for animation. (Terminator Salvation did it) I'm curious on how well it works and renders time wise. It'd be wicked to play in the Federation universe... or oh, Bootstrap with the aliens and dinosaurs... For now, just a dream. I still can't get around to the wiki or website! lol Still....

      Anyway... I know, daydreaming. :) ... I know I owe another snippet. I'll post it tomorrow or later this evening if I remember.... or send it to Minion Mike first since Jory's busy reading Jethro 4. :)

Multiverse 2 Launches in 3...2...1....

    Hi! Wow! I just got the email from Goodlifeguide.com with the final manuscript so I immediately ran over to Amazon and B&N and published it! It should go live anytime in the next 24-48 hours.
When they go live I will post the links.

Description:
    11 short stories of Fantasy, Science Fiction and somewhere in between. From genetic engineering to sweeping space drama, to the whimsical Santa Brigade. Here is a second collection of short stories from various universes including 4 new Federation stories!

The stories are:

Virus (mix drama sorta scifi)

Fantasy:
Elementals

Scifi:
Survival
Penance
The Santa Brigade
The Pack (aka Who done it)
Last Assault of the Emperor

Founding Fed stories:
Island of Moreau
Bumper and Boomer
The Good Ship USFP Lollipop
Lewis and Clarke (the story that was supposed to be at the end of Ghosts from the Past)

      In other news, I got to the end of act 2 of Jethro 4 Recruiting Drive Friday then dropped the ball by a distraction for the past um, quite a few days now. (wince, I can hear the screams now) I will hopefully get back to it um... sometime tomorrow (maybe? double wince!) or Thursday.

The really annoying thing is the distraction blew up in my face and turned into a lot of wasted time and effort on my part. Sigh.

 

Anyway, Enjoy MV 2!

Multiverse 2 snippet

   Okay, I just got the manuscript back from Rea this morning, and after a couple of hours I've gone over it, added the TOC and appendix, then uploaded it to Goodlifeguide.com for final formatting. We should be seeing it back in 10-14 days. If not sooner. :)

   In the meantime, here is a snippet to wet your appetite. There are 11 short stories in the book, 4 of them are from the Federation universe. 1 was supposed to be the short story at the end of Ghosts from the Past but I ran long on that book so I pulled it. Here is a piece of it...

Lewis and Clarke

On the trip out to Hidoshi's World, Second Lieutenant Craig Lewis and his people were too busy to get nervous. Every waking moment they were busy training, running sims in VR and in holds set up as shoot houses. The few officers and noncoms had created various contingency battle plans based on their limited intel and what the book had to offer. They did their best to simulate them, then critique the end results. “Get it right, people!” was a favored rant from acting E-5 Sergeant Padre Rutledge.

Padre was a father figure to the troops, but he could be a hard ass when required. Craig was fairly certain the admiral and Lieutenant Gustov would sign off on his bumping Rutledge from E-4. He needed an experienced noncom badly. He had three, one per ten-man squad; he had bumped Race Bannon from PFC to Lance Corporal and Hadji also to Lance Corporal to help fill the last voids in his command chain. Hadji's buddy John Quest would serve as a good PFC, though the young blond man had a bad habit of getting into mischief. Lewis shook his head. Race was right. Idle hands were at play there, though their training did keep everyone pretty damn busy.

He was still limited to himself and Ensign Sing Xe as officers, but he'd work with what he had available. It bothered him that if something happened to them the platoon would be up a creek. He had to remind himself he had a duty to everyone including the people on the planet to stay out of combat as much as possible and direct the various battles from afar. That was going to be a bitch. It would let him and Sing pilot the mechs and drones though, which was a small consolation prize.

Besides he mused, he was fairly certain both senior officers considered their mission a long shot. There would be a lot of people who wouldn't be coming back from it. Hopefully, not as many as he feared, he closed his eyes. One would be too many, too damn many. But he also knew that any one of his people would gladly give their lives to save the people on the world they were about to assault, to save people they had never met. And if they killed some of the bastards along the way, well, that was just gravy. His lips twitched in a small grim smile.

All of the marines and the liberated civilians they had along for the ride were crammed into Collier 2, formally known by the Horathians as Tender T12783, the Clydesdale freighter turned liberated collier. Lieutenant Herschel was a good captain though; he ran a tight ship. For him this wasn't just retribution and payback, it was coming home to liberate his homeworld. He kept everyone busy, too busy to worry about what they were up against. The other two ships were the tanker and Deinara. Deinara was outfitted with most of their support equipment as well as their rail guns. She was a medium-sized freighter though, far smaller than Collier 2 or Lassie.

Apparently the battalion had squeezed into the medium freighter and escorts by placing all of their shuttles and a good part of their cargo on the hull of the ships. To have that many bodies in such a confined space was still mindboggling however.

They had thirty marines including the two officers in a short platoon. Sergeant Bannon's squad was outfitted with powered armor. All the other marines were outfitted in standard armor. There were four heavy weapons teams and the rest of the marines were shooters.

To supplement their numbers, they had thirty mechs, android troopers that they were uncomfortable with using. There were also forty drones of various makes and models including four of Bounty's security dog drones. They had tons of gear, nearly a hundred tons of gear from Admiral Irons, not just for their use but to help rebuild the colony. They had to recapture it first. Lewis had also borrowed a half a dozen squids to act as corpsman and field medics for his short platoon and three techs to keep the machines in line.

They worked themselves twenty-hour days into exhaustion, then underwent sleep teaching at least three nights a week for six hours each time to supplement their training further. They kept training until they responded like veterans using muscle memory, the training to follow orders, and relying on their training instinctively to get the job done and stay alive. One half day a week they had off to get caught up on laundry, inventory, and other chores. Many did them as quickly as possible and then racked out to get what sleep they could.

They could only simulate explosives and weapons fire in both VR and in the shoot houses. Likewise the initial drop was to be made by their Skyhawk and three civilian cargo shuttles. Keeping one shuttle in reserve was prudent, but Xe expressed his doubts repeatedly. His theory was for them to hit hard with all six shuttles and then pull one back for the reserve later. They weren't even counting the two cutters Deinara had. They could land four people in a drop and needed a long runway to do it.

Those were worrisome holes in the plan; a lot could go wrong right from the beginning screwing the entire op up. Another problem was that they could also only simulate the usage of mechs and drones virtually. That was a major point of contention with the leadership, along with how to use them effectively. Ensign Xe wanted to keep them in reserve or have them fight on their own while Hadji wanted to use them as cannon fodder, to soak up the enemy's fire until the real troops landed and dug in at a different location.

Lewis on the other hand knew they had finite resources and knew he couldn't waste them. But he also knew they would be expended; that was a part of any operation. People as well, they were going to take losses; it was inevitable. He made himself face it. Just about every simulation confirmed that fear as well. They were using opposition forces that were as tough as they were now; his people were winning but taking loses. He tried to explain to them that it may be a game now, but they couldn't soak up that fire and win. They could win the individual battles yet still lose the war if they were cut to pieces by attrition. It was just one thing among a hundred that sometimes kept him up at night.

It had taken them seven and a half weeks to transit the 4.9 light years from B100 omega to the outskirts of Hidoshi's World star system. What a name, he thought, shaking his head. What a mouthful! Did the natives call it that he wondered? He snorted, finishing off his coffee. Training was over; they were now feverishly working on final preparations for the performance of their lives.

And now it came to this, Lewis thought as he stood watching the screen in his tiny cabin. They had just exited hyper two days ago and were cautiously entering the inner system, passing through the Oort cloud on their way in. Deinara was lagging behind with the tanker, but by design both ship's crews would be picking up a choice selection of rocks to be used later on. They would catch up soon enough.

It bothered him that they had so little intelligence. A Horathian battalion had been sent in led by a Colonel Wizenbek as the invasion commander with a Lieutenant Colonel Zin as his political advisor and battalion commander. A battalion could mean anything from nine hundred to twelve hundred soldiers. They had equipment; he knew that. How much was another question and in what quantity of each category and quality. Also, what they had captured on the planet.

He ran a frustrated hand through his short cropped hair. High and tight, just like the regs said. He'd come to realize it was the best haircut he'd ever had, easy to maintain, and hell, he looked good in it. He frowned as he looked at Zin's profile.

Commander Sprite and Lieutenant Defender had dumped a profile for him from the captured ship's computers. How Zin had tucked away an entire battalion in two colliers and a couple of corvettes … he shook his head. His intel specialist, Race, was going over the raw dump and assembling a better picture in his free time. Which wasn't much, Craig thought with a pang. Race had to be with his squad to train and oversee them since he was their noncom, but he was doing double duty like just about everyone else. He so wished the AI could have coded a dedicated intel AI for him. Some support, any support in that field would be nice right about now, he judged.

“If wishes were fishes,” Craig murmured, going back to the briefing. He studied Colonel Wizenbek; the stocky man was a by-the-book officer. He wasn't very flexible. But his XO and advisor was a different story. He looked at the cold eyes and the Asian male's overall look: blue burning eyes, high cheekbones, bald with liver spots, and thin almost skeletal hands. The colonel looked intimidating in his sharp black uniform.

He was fairly certain Wizenbek would be in the HQ, so he was confident they would decapitate his leadership in the initial strike. That left Zin to deal with, the greater of the two evils. He was tempted to hold off on hitting the HQ. Wizenbek might tie Zin's hands and bumble his way right into the marine's hands. But he couldn't count on that. He exhaled slowly, trying to cleanse his frustration. They'd just have to deal with it when the situation arose he thought.

Zin was some sort of zealot, also according to the short bio they had on him, some sort of doctor. He was a diehard believer, which meant he was most likely going to fight to the bitter end. There was no point giving him a heads up and a chance to surrender; that would just give him time to disperse his forces or do something drastic to the population.

Zin's second-in-command was a Major Alercon. There was little on him, not even an image of him. Nor of his any of his other officers, though one or two had names mentioned in the files. Apparently Race hadn't gotten that far yet.

He sighed and set the tablet down, then rubbed at his jaw, and then scrubbed his tired eyes with his hands. Probes had been sent out through the solar system and all three ships maintained a vigilant watch with their long-range sensors. The sensors were almost useless, however, since most of them were civilian grade. They just confirmed the basic information about the star system that they already knew. It was a G class star system, a couple of Jupiter class gas giants and the three planets, one of which was Hidoshi's World. The planet was an Earth class, 1.03 atmosphere, 21 degree axial tilt; she'd been terraformed at some point to be habitable. That might explain her orbit. She was in a wide orbit, in for a short brutal summer, long cooling-off autumn, then an even longer brutal winter according to the Galactic Encyclopedia entry. He shook his head. Well, this was the time to mount a campaign. He hoped it was short.

The probing did turn up a few minor treasures; the squids found a couple derelict ships and debris floating about the system. Apparently they were happy about that, though there was some doubt that any of the ships were salvageable.

“Sir, we're getting a signal from the planet,” a rating said over the intercom.

“Oh?” He looked up in surprise. “How did they know we were here?”

“I don't know, sir; we're still three AU out. Captain Herschel implemented op plan Trojan horse under his authority.”

Craig nodded. Trojan horse was simple; they would come in pretending to be more Horathians with additional troops and supplies for the garrison. That would make Zin's people relax and eager to meet and greet them. Every commander wanted more troops and equipment; there was never enough. And to pacify a planet? With a population in the low millions? With millions of places for people to hide? That took a lot of boots on the ground and a lot of work.

Most likely Zin's people had taken casualties as well, at least he hoped so. The population might have rolled over initially, but hopefully someone somewhere had put up a fight, even if it was brief one. A guerrilla campaign would also be nice. A nice sniper, maybe an IED.

Hell, technically he should be wishing Zin was complacent. It would make his job initially easier. In a way he was in the same role Zin was in less than six months ago. Hoping the planet was ignorant of his true intentions. What was that saying about surprise? He shook his head. He didn't have the time to look it up.

“Is the captain sticking to the plan?”

The rating cleared his throat in surprise. He had been about to cut the link, thinking the marine had forgotten about him. “Yes, sir, he is,” the rating replied.

“Good. We don't want them to recognize one of our own people, now do we? It's too early to give the game away.”

“Aye, sir. The skipper is sticking to audio only. He's using a scrubber to garble up the voice a little, and a healthy dose or two of static to cut the chatter down to a minimum.”

“Which will make Zin's people want to get more information once we're closer or in orbit. Tell them they can wait for news,” Craig said, then a thought hit him. “You know what, see if you can slip in there something about special orders for Colonel Zin on a flash chip. They are to be turned over to him specifically. That should put him neatly in the cross hairs.”

“Do you want us to get his location, sir?”

“Don't be too obvious about it. If he insists on a hand off to a subordinate at the spaceport, just say it's his choice to countermand orders or something to that effect. Don't get too cute or piss him off.”

“Aye, sir.” The rating paused. “Sir, we've backtracked the signal to its source. Sensors have found a ship in polar orbit of the planet.”

“Can you dump it to my screen?” the marine asked, now concerned. There had been nothing in the debrief about a ship left behind. If it was really a ship, they could be in trouble. The ship could run and possibly even slip past the admiral. Hell, most likely could slip past him if he'd already jumped! They could even radio a warning to Zin. That was a problem.

“It's odd, sir. Here is the image,” the rating said, sending the link to the marine's tablet. Lewis looked down at it, then picked it up as he frowned. The image was a spec but definitely a ship of some sort. It glittered; apparently, it had wings of solar panels. As he studied it, the sensor officer refined the image, putting up data in brief flashes of information around the ship. “According to this, no life signs have been detected within the ship? What's with the panels?”

“That is correct, sir. According to the spectrograph she's a cold ship. No outgassing, no signs of life. Her thermal signature is also too low to support life.”

“That is … odd.”

“It is too early to speculate, but the captain believes it is a derelict that has been turned into a space station by the natives,” the rating stated.

“But we don't know that for sure,” Lewis murmured.

“No, sir. Um, the captain asked if you wanted to dispatch a boarding party when we get into orbit.”

“Definitely. I'll alert my people. They've got six days to prep,” Lewis said grimly. “Ask the skipper if he or your communication's people can work out some sort of way to jam the ship's transmission without being obvious,” he said.

“Simulating a solar flare might work, sir. I'm not sure. I'm the acting communication's officer, sir. I'll look into it and get back to you.”

“Good man,” Lewis murmured, getting to his feet. He had orders to pass on. “You do that. In the meantime, I'll be with Ensign Xe.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

>*…*<>*…*<

Battle Lines Snippet 3

Hi,
Okay, here it is:

They sipped at the EM spectrum the best his little ship could, logging everything for future analysis. They didn't have the computer support to process even a tenth of the data however. “Sir, at this rate we'll be full up in a day,” Jim said when the captain came back on shift the next morning.

They had identified 11 possible ship contacts in orbit of the planet. 7 of them were of appreciable mass, either a destroyer or freighter. The others were unknowns, they were still attempting to get positive ID's on the large ships.

“We're scheduled to be here for longer,” the new captain stated mildly. Didn't anyone plan for this? No, of course not, he thought pedantically. Send a damn frigate on a tin can's mission. “Were you on this all night?”

“Yes sir.” The captain frowned thoughtfully. Jim looked okay but he had circles under his eyes. The kid had the energy of youth and his implants so he could handle it, but the work load and stresses involved were taking their toll.

The captain crossed his arms and looked down his nose at the rating. “Then you've got a problem. Solve it. Compress the files.” He frowned thoughtfully and then nodded to himself. “In fact, compress anything we don't need now as well. Restrict recreational use on the computer net. And move some material to hard copy backups.” He was curious about how the rating would do on this little test. It would push him a bit and might expand his horizons. It would go a long way to see if the young man was ready for more responsibility.

Jim nodded. “Aye aye sir. It's a drop in the bucket though sir.”

“It's a start. Are we filtering?”

“Our ears are picking up what we can sir. Filtering? I don't think... no sir.” Jim shook his head.

“Do so. We don't need the spectral noise of the gas giant or local star. Strip that out.”

“Yes sir.”

“Do the same for anything natural once it's been tagged and identified. Map its location and then filter it out. That should help.”

“Yes sir, it should.”

“Once you've nailed down the artificial sources tag them for further analysis. But have someone keep an ear out for new sources as well. Just in case.”

“Aye aye sir.”

He worried over being in the system though, he didn't want to blow his very first mission. The frigate wasn't set up for stealth however so they had to wing it. Three days on station. Just 72 measly hours and then they could jump out again.

---<>---<>---

On the third day they got additional confirmation of occupation of planet. It was grim, Jim could barely listen to it. Hassan had tried but he didn't have the stomach for it. He shook his head. He didn't envy intel's job, not in the slightest.

Come to think of it, they should have sent a spook along for the ride. Not that they had room... he frowned thoughtfully. Hopefully Admiral White would have one assigned to his staff. He shrugged such problems off his shoulders. He had other concerns. Like if White was actually going to make the rendezvous. He had his doubts.

They had also gotten positive fingerprint ID's of each of the ships in the star system, EM from the ships when they were broadcasting. Any that were under power allowed the watching observer to fingerprint their drives. They gathered any other intel data they could without going active.

“Air getting a bit thick isn't it?”

“Don't worry,” Jim said.

“Just saying.”

“We're fine. Technically we could get almost all the way back if we reduced mass. We'd be a jump short but it could work. Could. Not that I have any intention of trying it.”

“But sir, what if we wait too long at the rendezvous and they are delayed or never show?”

“Then we're screwed.” That earned a wince. “We all knew the risks going into this people. It's worth it.” He glanced at the clock. It'd damn well better be he thought.

“What's that smell?” Jim asked, sniffing the air.

“I swear you're worse than my sainted mother,” Adel growled shaking her head.

“Don't ask a lady to admit she's ripped one,” Ensign Nissan Ham the navigator said maliciously.

“Funny,” Adel growled. “Very funny,” she drawled, giving the Neochimp navigator the stink eye. The young woman giggled.

“Mind your stations people. Work on the jump list,” the captain said mildly. When Jim sniffed the air again the captain sighed. “I knew they should have crewed this ship with midgets.”

“Or elves sir. Five to one of us sir,” Jim said with a grin.

“Something like that. Are you okay with computer space?”

Jim bobbed a nod. “It turns out we had some flash memory sticks in one of the storage containers sir. The XO found them this morning and we've been using them,” he said, indicating a bank of jury rigged electronic storage devices hooked up to his station. The captain leaned over slightly to get a look. They were by the man's feet, hooked up to some sort of hub to the port.

“Just don't step on them or the admiral might keel haul you,” the captain warned as he straightened. He glanced at the clock. One minute until they could leave. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Adel also superstitiously looking. He snorted. It wasn't like they needed to look, they could put the countdown on their HUD. But that was distracting.

When the clock hit zero he nodded and straightened his shoulders. The bridge crew looked at him expectantly for the order. “Time to go. Helm, bring us about. Navigation I want a soft translation into hyperspace.”

“A soft translation sir?”

“Low band. If you can, find us a rock to hide behind while we do it.”

“Sir? We can't be near any appreciable mass or...”

“I meant between us and the enemy. Run the numbers, even a planet or moon in system. We need to time it so our flash of departure isn't seen.”

“I see sir.” The navigator frowned as she ran scenarios. “This will take some time sir. I'll need to simulate each ship's point of view carefully.”

“Just do your best.”

“This would be quicker and easier with an AI,” the navigator grumbled.

Captain Gruber ignored her gripe. Sometimes they had to do their own grunt work, not rely on an AI or someone to do the heavy lifting for them. He turned his eyes to his XO and chief engineer. “Something to add Lieutenant?”

The XO shook his head. “No sir. They didn't notice our arrival so let's hope we can get out the same way,” the XO stated. “If we're far enough out and with enough scatter between us and them we may get lucky.”

“Exactly.”

---<>---<>---

Battle Lines cover

Okay, I finished this over the weekend.

    This was fun to make. I had intended to have a lot more in the battle (actually a battle from the climax) but when it started to get busy with the missiles and missile pods I called it. :)

     Oh, the people on the bottom. Center in blue undress uniform is Fleet Admiral Irons. (He's returning everyone else's salute) Behind him are Admiral Subert and Admiral White.
     On the left is a Neogorilla, I don't think that is the chief warrant officer, if I remember correctly he has blue fur. (Not sure) Beside him is an elf, or as close as I can get to 1 in Daz. In the foreground (the gray guy) is a Gashg. (again as close as I can get to one in Daz)
     On the right side center is a woman in a skinsuit, then the Raven Chimera is LTCMDR Wong. (Freshly promoted) and then the short guy is obviously Commander Vestri Sindri, beside him is Captain Samuels, and behind them is a Naga. (or as close as I can get to one again in Daz) Again, I was tempted to throw more people into the scene (even a Veraxin) but I decided to call it.

    Jory hit me up about Admiral White's not having his cap tucked in his elbow (oops I guess it slipped and he caught it) and that no one salutes on board unless reporting to a commanding officer. (actually he was very much a nitpicking brat when he first saw that image, him and a female cohort of his) I thought of this scene as more of a... show of respect. :) I liked it better than everyone clapping and cheering.

    I am planning to get into Jethro 4 sometime this week after maybe doing some more character art. (I only have a couple of people left on my list to do)

    I'll put another snippet of BL or MV2 up in a day or so. (I may pass it to Minion Mike or Jory to put up on the FB group first...)

Battle Lines

     First off, a sitrep: Okay, I am a bit more than 1/2 way through the book, I am up to chapter 17 which is another tie in to J4. It's tricky handling such situations as I mentioned to 'Minion Mike'. I am on track to finish Act II by the end of the week. (I hope)

    Thanks for the offers of Red Bull but I'll pass. lol I think I'm doing just fine as is. (Though I used to write a lot faster when I had sugar!)

Oh, I did this a while ago, I forgot to post it. This is Cheetahra from Agnosta. (I don't remember what generation she is) She is in the current time period. (Irons)

I have roughed out a lot of the characters. (I even accidently did 2 versions of Sindri!) I'll put them in scenes and render them later. (rendering takes hours and I want to write!)

Anyway, I just (a few minutes ago) gave Minion Mike the latest BL snippet. Here are both in 1 dollop. The following is RAW. I did a quicky spell check but none of the betas have fact checked it. (Sorry about the formatting)

ACT 1

Chapter 1

   Lieutenant Commander Ssri'allth, Naga captain of the Arboth Yris'ka'th looked around the bridge of his shiny new command with an air of approval. They still had some rough edges but they were getting there. He wasn't at all sure about the hyperdrive, they had yet to do a full jump but he was confident his new crew could handle whatever problems were thrown their way.

   Not bad for a former midshipman time lost. He'd been sleeping the sleep of ages on the derelict liner White Star before Firefly had rescued him and the others. He'd taken a few positions, winding his way up the chain of command to be the XO of Wendigo before taking on his beloved Hecate as skipper.

   Now his most recent transfer was again onward and upward. He had been transferred to newly built Arboth class destroyer, the first named after a Naga hero. Commander Yris'ka'th had distinguished himself during the Xeno war. He'd fought to defend Malta, one of the Navy's bases that had been handling the refugee crisis. He'd taken on a Xeno capital ship squadron with only a jury rigged squadron of small ships to back his Arboth class destroyer up. They'd performed valiantly, hitting and running before they had been pinned down and destroyed, but they'd destroyed five times their weight in hardware in return and bought the navy precious time to evacuate the base and get additional forces into the area to cover the refugee convoys.

   It seemed appropriate then that he was her skipper. The Yris'ka'th was Rear Admiral Amadeus White's flagship for the time being, most likely not for more than a year. They'd passed all of their trials and were busy with working up exercises while also planning their first offensive expedition.

Hecate's top slot had been taken over by former XO Lieutenant Gruber who had been promoted to the rank of First Lieutenant in order to take over the captain's position on the frigate. The Manta class escort frigate had been outfitted, painted black, refueled, and then sent on a perilous journey to scout the jump chain to Protodon.

   She had been replaced by a pair of newly constructed Horseshoe crab class frigates on their first shakedown cruise. They had green crews and untried ships. Hecate had an experienced crew which was why they had been selected for the mission. Even her new XO Lieutenant Riot was an old hand with the small ship's class.

   The frigate had orders to leave a chain of recon satellites in her wake. They weren't carrying enough for each jump point, just 1 per star system. There orders were to scout Protodon from outside the B-458 jump zone and then jump back and meet Admiral White's force in B-458.

The Naga captain worried about his old ship and crew's mission as he stood beside the Admiral. He coiled his tail and then rose on it up off the deck and his legs to stand near the admiral's height. It was difficult but worth the effort he thought. Such considerations quickly left his mind as he focused on the frigate and her upcoming scouting mission.

   Along with a better sensor package the small frigate had taken on extra food, fuel, and atmo for the trip, stuffing every cubicle of the ship and even storing containers on the hull. They still wouldn't have enough fuel to make it back to Antigua though, it was a 1 way trip.

   And to take on that amount of extra mass something had to go. Some of that mass would be dumped allowing them to pick up speed, but not enough. She had sacrificed her external and internal ordinance. If she got in a fight she would get chewed up or destroyed pretty quickly. Not a pleasant thought.

   Admiral White seemed worried about sending in an untested crew with a new captain. Captain Gruber had a lot to prove and that worried him as much as his inexperience in the captain's chair did. Sometimes that eagerness to prove oneself could be someone's undoing.

  “Hassan can handle the job admiral. I know it,” the Naga captain. “I've trained him.

   The admiral turned to look at the Naga and then grunted. He didn't say anything, just turned back to the view screen.

   They watched the ship spool up her hyperdrive and then jump silently. The brief flash of light as the ship departed made the Neochimp grimace. His fists tightened behind his back but he gave no other outward sign of discomfort. That flash was a problem for the ship but hopefully not a big one.

   “Well, that's that. They are on their way sir.”

   The chimp nodded as he turned back to work. “Then we'd better be soon. No more last minute delays. If we can't bring it with us now we'll leave it behind and it'll have to be shipped to us later.    What are we missing? Other than a lot more metal to back us up.”

“It's in the pipeline sir. For now we'll do our best with what we've got,” the Naga replied.

The Neochimp eyed his new flag captain and then nodded slowly. “That we will. So, let's be about it then,” he drawled. “We have a rendezvous to keep. And some pirates to kill.”

“Aye aye sir. Logistics is still in flux. But Commander Sprite has set up another simulation with Lieutenant Fletcher sir. The intel is old but it is all we have to go on until we get Hecate's data dump.”

  “Understood. Let's see what he's come up with.”

  “Aye sir. Any word on any more ships?”

  “No,” the neochimp heaved a sigh. “Your ship is the last we're going to be assigned from Antigua before we move out.”

  “I was hoping admiral Irons would see fit to swap out a couple of the pickets since they are making more steadily now.” That was true, the yard was churning out a gunship every week, a corvette every 2 weeks, and a frigate every 4.

  “I was as well. But many of the ships still need a shake down to get the bugs out. I'm also not thrilled about throwing green crews into combat. No offense,” Amadeus stated looking at the Naga.

“None taken. I've earned my spurs though in Destros and Mandolin sir.”

  The admiral nodded. Ssri'allth had been a young militia recruit barely out of the larval stage of his initial life cycle when the gunship he had been serving on had fought off pirates who had come into Destros to prey on the swarms of refugees there. He'd served his ship and captain well according to the records. They had went on to fight a scrap in Mandolin with a Xeno scout six months later. His ship had been battered but he'd survived and had been drafted by the navy through then Lieutenant Vargess.

  “I know. That's why I requested you as my flag captain.” He didn't add that he'd wanted Captain Vargess but Admiral Irons had been too stingy to loose the other man's services. He had to admit the captain was busy dividing his time between his ship and overseeing operations in the star system. Running ops was tricky, he had to coordinate with all the other departments to make certain everything ran smoothly. There were already a lot of hiccups with the issues with the yard.

  “To think one damned virus could do this much damage,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Yes sir. It's thrown our timetables into the sand storm,” the Naga stated. “But one cannot plan too far ahead without running into the god Murphy's meddling anyway,” he stated.

  “True. Too true. Okay, let's go see what Fletcher has set up for us. I'm betting he cranked in the intel Firefly sent along about that Cutlass so we'd better take the simulation seriously if we want to get through it with our head and asses intact.” He understood the need to train hard, to simulate worse case. But he didn't want to scare his people too badly either. He was also concerned that if they had too many bad dress rehearsals Irons would call the whole thing off until they could get more ships. That was the main reason he'd pushed to get Hecate out into space right away. Now they were committed. “We'll do a hot wash after dinner.”

“Aye aye admiral.”

---<>---<>---

They'll be fine,” Commander Sprite said from the holotable behind him. Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons turned to her avatar and then back to the screen he had been watching. TF22 had just departed in a flash of light.

“They're running late. Three days behind schedule.”

“That's because we had problems with the logistics on our end. And the Marines needed a replacement for Sergeant Snorkle. To get crushed like that by a falling crate...His injuries couldn't have come at a worse time.”

“I know.”

“Captain Ssri'allth can handle his ship,” Lieutenant Fletcher stated.

“I know. He's good otherwise he'd never have taken her on. I'm not really worried about them.”

“Then what are you worried about?” Protector asked. “I can tell from your vital signs that you are concerned about something.”

The admiral exhaled slowly. “Sindri. I'm grateful on the one hand that they pulled out all the stops to build Yris'ka'th but on the other hand...” he stopped and shrugged helplessly.

“You didn't like that they went behind your back to do it? Chancing the schedule? There was some slippage and some juggling of the convoys, but they did a damn good job. That was quite an effort,” Sprite said.

“I know. They pulled out all the stops to get that ship out of the dock. They played musical slips to get her in and out and built. I know they wanted to time her completion for when we were slated to return.” He smiled slightly.

“And damn near killed themselves in the process,” Sprite observed. “Weren't they a bit put out when we didn't return as planned.”

“The effort wasn't wasted,” Lieutenant Fletcher stated.

“No, but we had several people down for exhaustion, nine injuries, fortunately none fatal, and six cases of brown out and 1 burn out. That's what I didn't like.” The admiral said. He flicked a signal through his implants to shut the screen off as he went to his chair. “We lost some experienced people. We can't afford that. We can't kill ourselves like that and get that sort of return.”

“But it was worth it to get the ship.”

“Trading trained people for a ship? I suppose so in some cold logic. But loosing them meant the schedules were juggled all to hell. It ricocheted down the pipeline. Fortunately Kinja and Sindri got a handle on it when they did.”

“You mean Vargess did. He caught it early on.”

“Yes. He pulled their chestnuts out of the fire. But you see what I mean though?”

“I see it in theory. This is going to be a long campaign. Slow and steady like the turtle versus the rabbit's sprint and then fool around. I think we need to find a happier medium though,” Sprite said.

“Set the pace. We're going to pick up the pace, that was what I was planning. Now people are leery about it. Though they shouldn't be. They handled Yris'ka'th so they should know they can handle it. Just not at such a breakneck speed.”

“True. Which is why we have the second tin can slip built and the third nearly finished. And you have an appointment with Commander Wong and the destroyer pipeline industrial complex. Which means,” Sprite heaved her equivalent of a sigh. “I get to be unplugged. Again.”

“Looks that way,” the admiral said with a shake of his head. He rubbed his jaw again and then looked at the plot. TF22 would be all right. Amadeus knew his business. He exhaled again and then stood. “Let's be about it, shall we?”

---<>---<>---

13.9 weeks from her departure from Antigua Hecate jumped into the outer reaches of the Protodon star system well short of the B-458 jump point. Over ten million kilometers short, almost as if they'd planned it that way Captain Gruber thought with a slight trace of a smile of approval. It wasn't a perfect act of astronavigation, he'd wanted to be a bit closer in, but it would do the captain thought with a grudging nod of approval to the Neochimp navigator. They needed to conserve as much fuel as possible for the trip home he reminded himself. While they sat there they scouted the system from afar with their eyes and ears, barely drifting in at less than 1kps.

“Good work nav, helm. Get some rest,” the captain ordered to the helmswoman and navigator. Petty officer second class Adel Shazam nodded wearily. She would most likely barely sleep the first day. That would be rough but the stress of wondering if they had been spotted would eat at her. Not that they had to worry too much. By the time the enemy saw them and reacted they would be on their way out. And if they did happen to come they could always jump out long before they got within weapon's range.

“We have positive confirmation of an enemy presence sir,” the communication's rating stated. He held a hand to her ear.

“Don't you mean negative?” the captain asked as he sipped at his coffee. He could see the plot forming up. A few ships were there so he could see what Jimmy meant.

“Sir?”

“Never mind. What do you have for me?”

Jim frowned and then seemed to shrug the quip off. “We definitely have signs of occupation sir. There is unrestricted chatter going between the planet and the ships in orbit. We're picking it up. Some of it is encrypted but the majority is not.”

“Why encrypt when they have the planet? And that's just radio chatter right? Not laser?”

“No sir. We'd have to be closer and in line of sight of the transmissions to get a look at that sir.”

“Go on Jim,” the captain stated as he set his cup down in it's holder on his arm rest and came over to the rating's station. He leaned over the man's shoulder.

Jim looked up to his boss and then back to his number 1 screen. He pointed to the ships in orbit. “Sir, at least two of these ships are transports, the small one and the medium class Clydesdale here,” he said, flagging the two ships. “There are two tin cans as well, possibly a third. There are some smaller ship's, I haven't broken them down by class yet since I've been focused on the planet. As you can see, several freighters too. We're locking down the other ship types now.”

“Understood.”

“It seems that the transports are in a different group than these ships sir. They are recent arrivals. Something is going on, I'm not sure what.”

“A swap meet?” Adel asked from the doorway. They turned to look at her. “You know, a spacer's swap meet. Spacers get together and trade goods and stuff. Crews swap, marriages, swap cargo and passengers, news, stuff like that.”

“Oh.”

“I don't know. I'm not sure... it doesn't feel like that but I could be wrong,” Jim stated slowly. “The freighters seemed to be paired up with the tin cans sir.”

“Oh?”

“Yes sir. I'm not sure why.”

“I think I do,” the captain said straightening. The ratings turned to look expectantly at him. “Remember that ship that got away? And it's partner the Cutlass that Firefly took down?” He checked the front of his turtleneck sweater for coffee stains. He hated wearing white, it showed everything.

“You're saying these are raiding pairs sir? Did we ever figure out what they are after?”

“Intelligence isn't saying.”

“If they even know,” Adel murmured.

“Enough. Keep listening.” He pointed to the helmswoman. “You go eat and rack out. That's an order.”

“Aye aye sir,” the two ratings said in unison. Jim snorted. Adel left. She seemed to dodge someone and then kept going. The captain turned back to his half filled cup and the plot.

They heard a throat clearing in the open lock. The captain turned to see his XO and chief engineer standing there. The XO indicated the chair and then tapped the doorway meaningfully. The captain's stomach rumbled as if on cue. He couldn't help but smile slightly. “Yes, right. Dinner. I'll check in after supper then. Don't wait up on me,” he said. “You have the bridge XO.”

“I have the bridge aye sir,” the XO said as the captain left the bridge.

---<>---<>---