...and the book!

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With the pirate battle moon captured Jethro and the pirate empress in custody; the Cadre must secure it for the Federation's future while also preparing for the next fight.
At home and abroad Shanti and the family deal with the fallout from the attempted abduction of Bagheera as well as family members starting their own life paths. The brass refused to allow Shanti in on the investigation into the abduction however Shanti has other ideas.
While Jethro and the Cadre sail cross the stellar void to their next battlefield against nightmarish foes; Shanti has to fight on her own battlefield, battling politics and corporate espionage but reminding one and all What We Fight For…
Amazon: Amazon
B&N: To be continued...
Well, the Tally Hawk is up:

I did a couple videos but they came out shaky. I was kinda fatigued from putting it up. I'll try again later.
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Chapter 5
Antigua
General Lyon scanned the latest training report and nodded to himself. So far so good. Getting quality material for the Cadre was tough. He had so many commitments going on. It was odd that Tau was the one sector he didn’t have troops in. He had SpecOps, but no Cadre. There hadn’t been a call for them during the Confederation War, though he’d anticipated a call during the occupation phase. Fortunately, that hadn’t occurred, and instead, he’d sent the bulk of the Cadre off to Sigma.
This Confederation civil war was an issue though. As much as the powers that be would love to let the Taurens sort out their own house, they couldn’t. The rebels were holding hostages in the form of their own non-Tauren citizens as well as thousands of Federation personnel.
Given their track record in treating the non-Taurens over the centuries as well as what reportedly happened to the Pele refugees; things didn’t bode well for the hostages.
Well, he had agreed to scrounge up some SpecOps forces for the possible invasion force. Getting Marine and Army Recon squads had been simple. They were on leave but a squad of each would be ready whenever they needed to move out.
He even had a SEAL team ready to go. They had recently graduated from the training course on Agnosta and had been earmarked to go to Sigma sector. He had backstopped them for the moment.
The Cadre would be the icing on the cake. He didn’t have any Cadre officers … Cadre were natural operators not officers. But he did have one squad that had come together. They still had some rough edges, but if the training report was accurate, they might be available to deploy during the window.
He made a soft puttering sound and then blinked when his inbox pinged.
“Is that who I think it is?” he asked Mars, his AI partner.
“Jack is relaying Admiral Thornby’s schedule.”
“Ah.” He nodded. He scanned it briefly. It looks like they were not going to have dinner that evening after all. Pity.
“I guess I’ll take a rain check. Any progress on the investigation on the McClintock assault?” he asked.
“No, sir. The trail has gone cold.”
“Darn,” he said. That was to be expected. The team were professionals. The running hypothesis was that they had come from either ET or Bek. They’d done a very good job playing ghosts. Most likely they had disappeared like smoke into the population.
Well, now that they were forewarned, the Cadre population was forearmed. The AI were on alert and doing check-ins with each family member as well as prospective Cadre members. Hopefully, there would not be a repeat of the assault.
“I wish we had more intel damn it. At least Baggy is okay.”
“Yes, sir. The family is on alert and housed on the base. They are chafing at the restrictions, however.”
“Well, perhaps we can ease up if we know the mercenaries are no longer here or no longer targeting them.”
“Unfortunately, there is no information indicating that, sir,” Mars reminded him.
“Yeah,” the general sighed.
<<(O)>>
Bagheera grimaced as he ran the scenario. He had been gaming and staying awake on adrenaline, youth, excitement, a desire to win, and energy drinks. Probably too much of the last, he was getting button punchy and twitchy. Fatigue was setting in.
He had one last thing to try out though, a trick he’d thought of. He was supposed to deliver his report in the morning.
The scenario was basic, get from point A to B along roads. Obviously, the easiest path was a straight line. He understood why they didn’t want to go by air, that just made you a target for everyone in the surrounding area.
He was finding out that the motorcycle thing was almost as bad.
He rubbed his hands and flexed his fingers as the AI populated the map with opposing forces. Once it was done, the ready button flashed.
He inhaled, held his breath for a second and then exhaled as he centered himself. He then hit the enter key.
The map was randomly generated as was the opposing force. Normally he’d have a unit with him but this was a lone wolf map since it was a basic test.
“Time to mix it up,” he growled as he committed the map to memory. His years of experience gave him ideas on where ambush teams would be set up. Based on what he was seeing, there were too many to avoid.
The straight line course had the most since it was along an elevated highway. But taking a roundabout path meant he would get hit as forces moved to block him. He’d be under siege.
Take the quick path to certain destruction or the death of a thousand cuts?
A timer appeared. He grimaced and he felt his ears go flat. “Frack.”
He triggered the transformation sequence and then got moving. “Let’s dance,” he growled as he felt the base rumble in his chair and then the sounds pick up in intensity.
<<(O)>>
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Chapter 4
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)>>
Sitrep:
So, J10 is off to Goodlifeguide who said they will get it back to me by the end of the month. So, on track there.
I am past the half way point writing the current manuscript. It is a bit of a struggle here on out though. Not fun. There are a lot of ships and stuff to keep track of.
In other news, it is unseasonably hot... or soon will be here on the west coast. Way too dang early to be kissing 95 let alone nearly 100 later in the week! GRR! I hate hot weather!
On to the snippet!
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Chapter 3
Triang
Jones checked the news with an eye to what they'd missed. The team had dispersed after the Antigua job. Much to his annoyance, the Feds had gotten a bit more than they'd like. The client was most likely not going to be happy.
If he wasn't careful, he might find himself on the wrong side of a cleanup spree. He had participated in them before. He never wanted to be on the wrong side but knew that it was a risk of the job.
The colateral damage had the media up in arms. The Feds had plastered images all over the media. There was no mention of DNA. So much for cyber covering their tracks, however. They had been lucky to get out of Antigua at all.
Well, the good news was that they'd had some partial success and turned over the DNA samples to the lab goons. He had not been offered a bonus, and he'd been wise enough not to ask about it.
If he got out of the area alive, he'd be quite content and call it a win.
<<(O)>>
Triang orbit
“There was no viable DNA in any of the samples that were recovered, sir,” the tech reported.
Nigel Mosfet was surprised and alarmed. He was unsure how that was possible. He frowned and then realized in the haste of the situation there might have been cross-contamination. Besides, it wasn’t like it had been a sterile environment to begin with. “Contaminated?”
“No, sir, no DNA. Not a trace of the target DNA. The only DNA we found were from the team which we filtered out.” He looked offended. “I ran the test three times to confirm.”
“How is that possible?” Nigel scowled. “All beings shed hair, skin … There should have been something!” He flapped his hands in distress.
“Unknown.” The tech frowned. “It could be that the hairs lacked follicles. I don’t understand the lack of skin cells.”
“Clearly we need to figure it out if only for our own uses in the future. So look into it.”
The tech nodded, looking slightly relieved to not be in trouble. “Yes, sir.”
Once the tech had retreated, Nigel frowned as he leaned against the chair. He tried to frame the report but he didn’t know how to do it without it coming back to bite him.
The one bit of good out of the report was that he couldn’t get called on the carpet for the failure. The general couldn’t ream his ass through the ansible. But the delay was hardly comforting. It just put off the inevitable.
He sighed softly and then selected a program. He selected a sympathy card in the pre-determined selection. He used his cipher to write three code words into the innocuous message and then read it. It looked good enough so he hit send.
What happened next was out of his hands.
He frowned. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He knew he had another mission coming up. But he could and probably should tidy up some loose ends.
Two of the mercenaries had come out on the passenger liner with the samples. Jones and Smith. Well, not Smith, he had links to the senator and was too useful. The review he’d seen had shown that Smith had done just about everything right.
He frowned thoughtfully and then called Smith in.
“You summoned me?” the agent asked in mild amusement.
Nigel turned to him. “Yes, I take it you heard?”
“Heard?” the lead agent asked mildly.
“Never mind then. Thoughts on fallout?”
“Moderate. They got better images and video than I’d thought.”
“I know.”
“I have a couple of agents on Antigua. I can have them work on some quiet cleanup.”
Nigel nodded thoughtfully. “We need to get into those files and erase them,” he warned. “All evidence needs to be contaminated or destroyed.”
Smith nodded. “That will be tough and won’t come cheap.”
Nigel frowned. “I’ll check with higher on a budget.”
Smith nodded.
“What about the operatives that got out?”
“All extracted successfully as of last report in. Four are headed south to ET. They’ll get lost there.”
Nigel frowned but then nodded. If they didn’t get picked off by the mobsters, they might get picked up by the Feds. If they did, they might have to do something about loose ends later.
The ET connection would obscure the real client, however, he reminded himself. But it would draw attention to unwanted parties.
“The good news is that it had the desired effect,” Smith said.
Nigel blinked as that statement penetrated. “In what way?” he asked.
“The side client wanted the heat off of his home. He got it. The target’s mother raced home in a courier. Word is she just got there.”
Nigel blinked and then pursed his lips.
“You know this how?”
“Saw it on the news a few minutes ago. I was actually coming to tell you.”
“Ah.” Nigel thought about it and then nodded. “Funny how she made the news.”
“The connection to her illustrious husband and of course the recent attack on her family no doubt,” Smith stated.
Nigel nodded.
“What about the operative that came in with you?”
“He’s solid. Laying low. Waiting for orders. Possibly expecting the ax to fall.”
“Paranoid?”
Smith snorted. “Wouldn’t you be in his shoes?”
“True,” Nigel admitted. “I’ll find out from higher if they want a general housecleaning. You and I both know that they won’t be happy.”
Smith froze. He turned to Nigel. “I take it the samples had issues?” he asked slowly.
Nigel just stared at him.
Smith’s Adam’s apple bobbed briefly and then he nodded slowly. He was internally kicking himself for not checking the samples sooner. “Good to know. Though I don’t understand how that could have happened.”
“Be more careful in the future.”
“Definitely,” Smith said fervently. “Most definitely.”
<<(O)>>
So, I couldn't resist posting this here:



I 3D printed this guy at the original scale that Sabertooth Collectibles sold it as, made another and sent it to Regal Rebel, but then I got to thinking and well...
Lol.
I added fur and here he is. Nice learning project for fur and airbrushing. Special thanks to Uncle Jessy and M.M. Props Shop for the encouragement.
I've got enough fur to do 1-2 more projects. Debating on which. Mom asked me to make an ewok. lol. I was leaning towards Snarf.
Sitrep: So, Rea has sent me back J10. I hope she has fun in Irvine at the track meet. :)
On to the snippet!
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Chapter 2
Antigua
“I love my job,” Willow said as she took the stairs to her boss’s office. She had short legs so the steps were slightly uncomfortable for her dwarven physique. She made it work, however.
Newly promoted Chief Warrant Officer 1 Mariah Willow was the lead armorer of the Cadre. Well, most of the time. Whenever that Tauren Ox showed up, everyone including herself deferred to him. That was fully understandable and she supported it. Ox had been the original armorer after all.
She had been the mastermind behind the Cadre 2.0 program. She was still working on improvements for it. She had a small design team that was also working on alternative ideas for the suits to use in combat.
One of the greatest strengths of the Cadre 2.0 program was that they could innovate new designs and send them via ansible to units in the field to implement. Field units could then generate the changes with their AI and nanites. Major changes could be altered permanently into the hardware or “baked.” Minor changes could be stored for later use. Alterations for mission specific scenarios could be stored in modules for on-call use. But of course they all needed to be tested first.
The same was actually happening in reverse; deployed Cadre units were sending feedback and adjustments back via the ansible to the armor, nanite, and software research and development teams. They then went through the data and changes and built virtual and then physical test models to see what worked and if they could refine it further.
A lot of the data coming in were rough and ready bug patches to address a specific problem. Usually it was mission related, such as in smoke or to deal with other environmental factors. The team was particularly looking forward to the heaps of data that would come in from the Cadre deployment within the pirate battle moon.
Well, the data that survived to get to them at any rate, Willow mused with a slight grimace as she passed a set of robots.
That was another thing that had been innovated, the partnership with robots. The Cadre now had two robots assigned to each suit minimum. Some could handle up to six smaller robots. They were still working on the level of autonomy in the units.
She nodded to the two mastiff-sized robot dogs on either side of the door as she went in.
She waited patiently as the yeoman dealt with a call.
“He’s on a call,” Peggy informed her. She indicated a seat on the HUD. Willow grimaced and took the seat. The Yeoman looked up to her and then nodded and went back to the call. She was using a hush mike so Willow couldn’t quite hear it.
She briefly toyed with the idea of testing her aural implant improvements but decided to keep her nose short.
“You think he’ll really go for this?” Peggy asked.
“What’s with the pessimistic approach?” Willow asked. She was only slightly nervous. They had a good pitch; the idea had been used in science fiction media for centuries. It had even made it into a few suits at different time periods. Unfortunately, the specific data on their use and why they fell out of favor had been lost to the ravages of time.
Willow had come up through the army’s powered armor units. She’d heard stories about how they’d gotten the jump start on powered armor courtesy of then Lance Corporal Jethro McClintock.
Jethro had just graduated with the legendary F Platoon. He had heard that the corps was struggling to get into the hardware and had remembered his family’s cache of suits including his own ancestor’s suit.
He had dug them out, and they had been refurbished and copied. At the time, not many had known that his suit was a Cadre suit and that he had been the descendant of a legendary Cadre member.
She smiled slightly. Some of the details were still sketchy but she’d picked up a few more over beers when she’d chatted with Ox a few times. Like the fact that Bast had been awoken in the armor and had caused havoc in Agnosta before being tamed and eventually brought to full sentience by Admiral Irons and his AI.
They had used Jethro’s armor and Bast as a template for the formation of the Cadre some years ago. Admiral Irons had authorized them to continue to innovate and to incorporate the little data that they had gathered from the Lemnos facility.
When she had come on board, she had been determined to make the Cadre the best it could be. A step beyond what they were. So far the jury was still out on if they’d achieved that lofty goal. They’d find out more when word got back to them about the battle moon … if it ever did.
Hopefully, she thought.
The battle was a suicide mission some whispered. She didn’t believe that. The Cadre took insane tasks, impossible missions, and broke then down into something they could win when others would fail. They’d make it, she thought firmly.
When they did get word, they were going to be swamped she mused. They had servers ready to process what came in … when it came in.
Dribs and drabs, she thought as her strong hands flexed on her knees slightly.
Most likely the data from the battle moon would have to be sent in packets at various ansibles or by courier. The wait for the full data would be excruciating in some ways.
They weren’t sitting on their thumbs while they waited, however. They had a bunch of proposals to sort through as well as some concepts to pitch in sims and test. She had been increasingly enamored with the idea of transformation. The suits with their nanites and hardware were polymorphic. They could adapt to any scenario. She wanted to capitalize further on that concept.
One of the techs had mentioned a foldable motorcycle called the Corgi. Apparently, Abe had seen it in a museum and it had stuck in his mind and caused a bit of inspiration. During the AI research that Peggy had initiated, they had found references to mecha that could transform into vehicles for rapid transit. Something called Mospedea. She had become fascinated with the concept which brought her to her current pitch.
“Ma’am?” she looked up. The yeoman indicated the door. “The general will see you now.”
She nodded and got up. She paused at the door to knock twice. The open command allowed her to open the door and come in.
“I’ve got twenty minutes, Willow,” General Lyon said as she came in and took a seat that he indicated. “I scanned your brief.”
“Briefly scanned the brief,” Mars said from the holographic projector on the desk. Peggy joined him there.
“Bite me,” the general growled. He turned to the dwarf. “Back it up a bit though. Corgi? You were inspired, not by the dog but by …?”
“Corgi. A motorcycle, really a scooter that folded up. It was dropped by planes for paratroopers during the second World War,” the dwarf explained.
Peggy helpfully put an image up of the thing.
“Okay, and this attaches to the suit?”
“No, sir, it inspired the project. From there we went into Mospedea which really inspired it.”
“Okay …?”
Peggy put up a few images and a 3D model and then animations.
The general watched them thoughtfully.
“What we were thinking was add on components or a program where the AI can initiate a change to grow the components of a motorcycle.”
“Sounds … interesting.”
“Doesn’t it?”
Various videos were shown of mecha and robots transforming into motorcycles. “We can combine the idea with the robots too as seen here. Build on the modular ability I mentioned earlier.”
General Lyon nodded thoughtfully.
“And you think this is faster than running?” he asked.
“Yes, sir!” Peggy said excitedly. She highlighted the speedometer on one image and showed it bobbing and weaving through traffic.
“Definitely on roads. We are still experimenting with off-road and indoors.” Willow hesitated. “The general idea is fast reaction to a battlefield and shock value. Hard and fast.”
General Lyon blinked and then nodded slowly. That was the essence of shock attacks. They could backfire, however, he knew. He also didn’t like the idea of moving through civilian traffic but he was a pragmatist. He knew such things happened in reality from time to time. As much as they’d like to avoid civilians, they did tend to get underfoot and clutter up a battlefield.
“Okay, I’ll authorize a single test. Check it out.”
Willow nodded. She felt smug. That was easy as expected. “Thank you, sir.”
“Not so fast. Try before you buy.”
“Sir?”
“Try it in VR first. Run simulations. In fact, run a lot of simulations as realistic as possible.”
Willow frowned. “I’m really a hands-on person, sir.” She was a maker; she generally left the coding side to her AI partner.
“Then find someone who can do the VR side and the testing. Run them through various scenarios and then see what comes out the other side. You are on a shoestring budget. I’m pulling a few credits from projects that completed early and under budget to finance this,” he warned.
Mars nodded from his spot on the general’s desk.
Willow thought fast. “We could probably build the thing for the cost of hiring a programming team and getting them through the necessary security clearances, sir.” She was hoping that would deter him. With AI and nanites, they could fab just about anything as long as they had raw material or meta materials.
Of course they had to have a basic design to copy first.
“We have AI for a lot of the coding as you know,” the general reminded her. Willow flushed slightly as Peggy quirked an eyebrow upward on her HUD. The dwarven armorer gave a slight grudging nod. “You could also involve Bagheera.”
Willow blinked. “Sir? He’s a civilian.”
“Who is on base and is an avid gamer. He doesn’t need to know what he’s testing. Just have Peggy or some of the other AI create a game mod. Design the basic unit and drop it in and then create various scenarios for him to try it out with.”
“I’ll create the scenarios,” Mars stated.
Willow blinked and then cocked her head. She didn’t like that Mars would create the scenarios but then again they would be tough but fair.
“That could work,” her AI stated. “We can look at game examples as well. We haven’t gotten beyond the sci-fi references in the pitch.”
“Good. Try that first,” the general stated.
Willow nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
<<(O)>>
So, I am struggling with getting back into writing. I have been having a lot of fun making various projects. I may post some images and video here in the coming weeks.
I just finished a life size Wampa bust, it is... cool. :)
Anyway, I need to get back to the AI art and the current book I am writing. I sent Rea J10 the other day so I better get on the snippets too.
Oh, you are going to see some crossover material. That syncs my timeline up and of course some events drive reactions in other circles... yadda yadda.
On to the snippet!
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Deep Space, Sigma Sector
Jethro felt a sense of relief as the titanic ship dropped out of hyperspace. It pushed through the last barrier in an incredible burst of energy and then drifted. Second Fleet came in behind them. As he stared at the screens Bast finished working her way into the computers and signaled the other Cadre members.
Jethro noted other AI in the network but he was busy making certain that a reactor wouldn’t overload or something. He’d hate to come this far only to blow it somehow. When power dropped to lower levels he flicked his ears.
“We’re getting calls from across the ship demanding to know what is going on,” Bast said in amusement.
“Now what?” Mara asked, looking very small as she climbed out of the helm tube. Water dripped around her. She snagged a towel from the limp fingers of a sleeping attendant and dried herself off. She looked at the other sleeping water dwellers and her lower lip quivered.
Bast sent a signal to the nanites to wake them up. The girls woke within seconds. They looked up to Mara and then began to cry.
Bast flashed ‘trauma’ on Jethro’s HUD in yellow as a caution. He gave a slight nod and ear flick of acknowledgment.
“You were very brave. Now we get you and your friends back home,” Jethro rumbled softly.
“Home,” she said in a quavering voice. She shivered violently. The other water dwellers cuddled with her. “Home,” the blue woman said softly over and over again as she cried. They cried with her huddling together in a knot of comfort, misery, and relief.
“Sitrep?” Jethro asked as he scanned the room.
“Doors secure. They are armored so the guards outside won’t get in easily… even if they were awake which they are not,” Bast stated. Jethro raised an eyebrow in inquiry. “I am in their computers and control the life support.”
Jethro nodded.
Images appeared with knots of humanity as well as some fighting. Jethro grunted. Even though he had control of the ship there was still more to do. They had anticipated this, the die hards would try to fight to the end rather than surrender.
“You need to broadcast to the ship to lay down their arms,” Bast stated. “I am transmitting the codes to Second Fleet with the invitation to come on board.”
Jethro nodded and took a position at parade rest. When Bast nodded a green light came on in front of him indicating that she was recording.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jethro said over an all hands circuit. “This is Chief Warrant Officer Jethro McClintock. I am the black cat you definitely do not want to cross,” he growled.
Bast smiled and barred her teeth briefly.
“As some of you know, the Cadre boarded this vessel several days ago. We have disabled the self-destruct and taken control of this vessel. Your empress and her staff are in our custody.”
He didn’t look around the room.
<<(O)>>
Detective Kern felt his shoulders slump a little as he and other police officers and their families gathered around the video screens in the bullpen to watch the broadcast from the black cat.
He wasn’t quite ready to admit it, but he felt strangely relieved that it was over.
<<(O)>>
Jewel Cohen stared at the screen. Her lower lip quivered as did her whole body. “What happens to us now?” she asked as she turned to her parents.
“I wish I knew,” her father said quietly. He shook his head. “I wish I knew.”
<<(O)>>
Across the ship some diehards bristled at the idea of surrendering. Some were just ornery, others knew that they would be executed for war crimes. They had no reason to lay down their arms. Some privately vowed to build a death guard of as many people as possible.
<<(O)>>
“Twenty or so years ago I boarded one of your ships on my own in a little star system called Kathy’s World,” Jethro rumbled matter of factly. He felt his lips twitch in an almost smile. “I fought the crew to a standstill. Their captain negotiated to leave if I left their ship.” Bast flicked her ears on his HUD.
His ears flicked briefly. “Well, this time I brought friends,” he growled.
Bast smirked on his HUD. She had been with hiim on that mission but she was classified.
“We are now out of hyperspace. Second Fleet and a task force of Tenth Fleet are outside and boarding Marines now. Your fleet, what little was left of it, fled. We control your life support, your security systems, weapons, computers, power, the whole kit and caboodle people. There is nowhere to run, if you try to hide we’ll find you. There is no sense in fighting. It is over,” Jethro said flatly. As he spoke Bast was altering the command codes for the systems with the support of the other AI. She was also locking down sections of the ship, trapping people while also mapping their locations.
<<(O)>>
Chief Warrant Officer Hurranna grinned at Jethro’s broadcast. “Now that’s tellin’ them,” she growled. She glanced to the compartment where the EPOWs were being housed. Some looked even more defeated. Good.
<<(O)>>
"Power plants are on lock down. All self-destruct packages are secure. All magazines are secure though some are only remotely secure," Minotaur reported.
Ox grunted and flicked his ears. After a moment he nodded. "Good to know."
"Marine shuttles are inbound. Once they have a secure beachhead they will start to ferry over the skeleton crew."
"The round up?" Ox asked.
"Lockdown has been initiated. Anyone not locked down will be caught. We are working on tracking them now. Many are without weapons."
"Understood."
"It is rather pathetic that many of their weapons are melee weapons."
"Thank the tyrant for that," the Tauren rumbled as his thick fingers scrolled through the feeds. "She didn't want her people armed out of paranoia. So, it bit her in the ass."
"Right," Minotaur stated. "Though, they are pirates. We still need to be careful. That militia came as something of a surprise."
"Agreed."
<<(O)>>
Hey so, got it back earlier than expected and here we go!

About:
Admiral Shelby Logan has had a lot of challenges in her life since growing up on Anvil Station. Her initial naval career as chief engineer and then XO on Firefly, her time on Prometheus, leading the expedition to the Tau sector, trying to make contact and rebuild the Federation, fighting pirates, fighting the pirate plagues, and then the xenophobic Tauren Confederation. Now she is in for another challenge like she had never experienced before.
The Tauren Confederation has fractured and a civil war has been put down. But thousands of Federation personnel were taken hostage by xenophobic fanatics hell bent on making a last stand. Shelby is light years away; forced to watch and send what forces she can in the vain hope of saving them and the man she has started a relationship with…
And on the northern frontier of the sector, an ancient nightmare alliance has spread like a cancer to the neighboring sector and threatens all of civilization…
Amazon: Occupation
B&N: Occupation
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Chapter 5
New Tau Metropolis, Tau sector
Shelby felt like the pieces were beginning to fall into place, but they could easily come apart at any moment.
Obadiah had his yard dogs humming with the rebuild project. Admiral Irons’ idea to draw in the support of the worlds around the naval base had proven enormously helpful. The representatives and senators had gone to bat on the hill in support of the base… naturally of course since they saw it as an opportunity for their businesses and trade to thrive.
That had sold the project on the hill despite opposition from Bek.
They had also pushed for the base to the north. That was an ongoing project she knew. She hated that the communication lines were so fragmented there at the moment. Hopefully Cynthia was okay. She wouldn’t feel comfortable until there was an ansible in place and Rick was up there.
She was still on the fence about bringing the Taurens in. On the one hand, they may need all hands on deck. But on the other… they’d been shooting at each other not so long ago, and the Taurens had a loyalty issue still with their aborted civil war.
“Penny for your thoughts ma’am?” Boni, her AI asked whimsically.
“Just… thinking that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. And some things make for strange bed fellows,” Shelby replied.
Boni smiled on her HUD.
“How are we with the troops?”
“Another saying for you, a body in motion…?” Boni replied. “So far so good. They are marching to the sound of the guns, which is the important thing at the moment.”
“Are there guns sounding off on T-15?” Shelby asked.
“A recent artillery strike on refugee vehicles. No other shots fired at the moment. They are contained.”
“I doubt that,” Shelby murmured. “Somehow, I doubt that very much.”
<<(O)>>
Purple Nights
Secretary of State Moira Sema was cautiously pleased with the long hours of work with her Tauren counterpart and their respective staffs on the new treaty. The new agreement with the Taurens was for mutual defense against the Xeno-Necron alliance to the north.
The Confederation was still getting their house in order but Admiral Irons and the Tauren President’s broadcast about the threat had ended a lot of insurrection overnight. No one wanted to rock the boat. In fact, many personnel who had resigned in protest over the surrender or had refused to fight their own people were asking to be let back in.
She shook her head. That was not her problem of course. The Taurens had to figure it out on their own. Clearly trust would be a long term issue. What was her problem was to make it all work somehow. Give them a framework to shape protocol to keep everyone in line and on their best behavior.
They were about to test the waters with the agreement for Ninth Fleet to transit through Confederation space. Transiting through Confederation space would cut the transit time to the north by months. It also would allow the fleet to show the flag, which would hopefully put any further thoughts of rebellion to rest in the restive territory.
Picking up some Confederation ships to ally with them would be nice. They were still working on that. They did agree to have guides to escort the fleet, however the navy was concerned about the Tauren ships being able to keep up.
From what her people were reporting, the Taurens had similar concerns.
<<(O)>>
Minox IV
“So… what gives skipper?” Sergeant Bolt asked with a frown as he came up to the lieutenant. He flick his long ears at his boss.
“We’ve been reassigned,” the lieutenant said. She looked a little nonplussed but then interested.
The Serval blinked. “Okay…?” he drawled.
The LT eyed him. “You heard about the mess in T-15?”
The Neocat nodded. His long ears flicked again and then went back as the implications sunk in. It was going to mean a long transit in stasis as a popsicle and then possible combat.
“They are giving an ollie ollie in free call to all troops in the area. So, we’re going.”
Bolt blinked. “So, the contact and inspection mission?”
“On hold. Clearly the Taurens here are behaving themselves. We’ve recruited some of their alien population to do the job for us.”
Bolt nodded. They had established that much. There had been some strides in integrating the various species too. Not great ones, but some strides.
“We move out in two hours, so get your people squared away and to the LZ. Oh, and we’re not going alone.”
“Ma’am?”
“We’re taking a couple squads of Taurens with us.”
The Serval blinked in surprise at that news and then his eyes narrowed.
“It is going to get crowded in Marine country, at least until we get into stasis. I want everyone on their best behavior. We need to be one big happy family.”
“Aye aye ma’am,” the cat said with a wary nod. This is going to be… interesting, he thought with a slight shake of his head as she dismissed him.
<<(O)>>
President Scar Chin studied the reports and then sat back and rubbed his brow. It was a lot to take in.
His peripheral vision caught movement. He turned and noted a distant ship was moving under power. He puzzled over it and why it was triggering something in his mind before he realized it was most likely the Feds.
The Fed cruiser was moving their Marines out to T-15 as quickly as possible. They were even taking a squad of Taurens with them.
He wished them luck. They were definitely going to need it.
<<(O)>>
Sergeant Bolt nodded to his troops. They'd left one fire team behind to man the embassy, such as it was. Hopefully, the brass would send in additional people soon.
The serval's eyes moved to the Taurens. He flicked his long ears. They seemed uncomfortable, but it wasn't because of the enclosed space. None had been on a Federation ship, and they had been shooting at each other not so long ago.
There were two squads of them. Some were young, only two were older. Only one was a noncom. He had yet to get together with the bull. He hoped that they'd get along; he didn't need a pissing match.
He glanced at the Marines across from the Taurens. Come to think of it, some of his people weren't too comfortable with them on board either.
"Okay, listen up. We've got a ride to the combat zone. We're going to spend it in stasis. We're going to go into stasis in two days."
The troops looked concerned.
"I'm taking that time to get aquainted. We need to get up to speed on each other and tech. I know it isn't enough. I've asked the captain to wake us one week out from our destination so we squeeze in any additional training. Any questions?"
A few people looked ready to say something but he rolled right over them. Most likely they were protests.
"Good. Remember, one big happy family at the moment. I don't know what our assignments are when we get there but I want us working smoothly when we do. That way we can hit the ground running. Right?"
That last word came out as a command growl. Instinctively, the troops all stiffened and nodded.
"Good," he said with a slight ear flick of amusement. "Kit check-in ten then inspection, then we get to the nitty gritty on the range to zero in and get aquainted. Then we'll break into fire teams to hit the dojo and simulation time. One third on, one third racked out, one third doing our usual duties and rotate. I'm going to see the XO on that. You've got until I'm done to get squared away. Help each other," he said.
He knew there was going to be resentment and even an instinctive desire to let the Taurens hang, also competition. Well, he would deal with each as it came up. He could handle competition. A little healthy competition was good.
"Get on it, people," he growled as he about-faced and left the compartment.
<<(O)>>
"Sergeant Bolt?" the Tauren who came up behind Bolt said.
"Yes … ah ...?" he frowned. He'd instinctively tried to ping the Tauren with his implants but hadn't gotten a response.
"Sergeant Gros. My people are having trouble accessing some facilities."
"I'm noticing that and the why now. I'm sorry we haven't gotten together for a pow wow before," the serval said.
The Tauren nodded. "We were thrown together. I was a corporal up until a few hours ago."
"Well, that solves the question of who ranks who."
"Oh, you do, Sergeant."
"Nice that we've got the pecking order established, the smaller being stated. He felt a bit ludicrious next to the bigger alien. "Do you have a counterpart in the other squad?"
"Sergeant Toa. He's also new. You'll find that we are … green."
"How green?" the serval asked as he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
"As in most of us are straight out of boot?" the Tauren replied.
"Oh, lovely," the serval replied. "Well, at least you haven't picked up any bad habits," he said.
The Tauren nodded. "Toa and I were top of our class. I just finished advanced training and they, well, dumped us in this mission."
"I see. Well, the good news is that we've got time to sort things out."
"Yeah, like access to things? Even the head is locked. It is called a head, right?"
"Yes," the serval said. His mental evaluation of the Tauren went up a point. "Okay, we need to get you ID tags or get your tags integrated with ours." He saw the Tauren's ears droop and then perk up. "Do you have tags?"
"No. We have basic ID tags but not internal like you do."
"Ah. Well, good news is, they are easy. Just go to medical, they program the ID, it is a big pill or two, swallow, and in the morning you wake up with a basic ID and HUD."
"No pain?"
"Nope. It gives us a link to you so the AI knows who you are and will let you into areas of the ship you are authorized to be in. And it IDs you on the battlefield to us and to each other."
The Tauren nodded. "Good to know."
"If you have advanced implants, it gets better. But let's go see what the brass has in mind for you."
"Ah … yeah."
"I know, don't poke the bear or in this case the brass. In this case, it is a decision above our pay grade so we gotta," the serval said with an ear flick. "Let me take the lead."
"Ah, yes, Sergeant." The Tauren nodded.
Bolt nodded and motioned for the Tauren to follow him.
<<(O)>>
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Chapter 4
TauR14G6-15 Blue Waters and Gentle Mist
Captain Hierl nodded and signed off on the latest report. So far so good, though they had problems.
Wasn’t it always the case she thought and then grimaced.
She had a single platoon of troops on each planet. They’d set up a very wide perimeter and were slowly beginning to tighten it. The navy was beginning to make headway with identifying where Sedu and Shrapnel had gone to ground.
Ninth Fleet was supposedly going to leave in the next six weeks. When it happened, she was going to be on her own for a while. They were going to leave half of the Marines with her and two squadrons of cruisers. They were going to head out to catch up with Ninth Fleet as fresh ships came in to replace them over time.
She had half of the Marines from Ninth Fleet but too many duties for all of them. Six hundred Marines didn’t amount to a lot. Sure, she had half of the drop shuttles from Ninth Fleet but that again was an issue.
She had two squads of powered armor. Again, split between the two planets. They were in reserve at the moment. She had a single squad of Recon troops on the planet. She had hopes that they could identify the HQ of General Sedu and Colonel Shrapnel so they could knock them out. So far the answer was a wait and see.
The problem was that the rest of her troops were infantry and most were green. They were outfitted for security and for boarding actions, not for planetary invasion. The navy had given her some support, but she needed a lot more than what Ninth Fleet had provided before their departure.
Recently they had started to deploy drones to scout and monitor the perimeter. That took a squad of troops to monitor the feeds of twenty-four drones. They were broken into three personnel per shift and two shifts per planet.
She was going to have to cut another squad loose to support them soon. When she did that, they could theoretically each watch over eight drone feeds. That would allow her to double up on her drones.
The industry thing was an issue though. The brass had promised her all the industrial support that she wanted. For the moment, she had raw material and not much else.
The Feds had dispatched an engineering team from the cruisers to look into the Tauren side of that equation.
While she did that, a couple of naval spooks and the one Marine ensign who had minored in intelligence gathering were trying to process the mountains of data from the commercial satellites, communication logs, and so on. The ship AI were lending their support but it was a lot of data to process. Lieutenant Adel was the lead AI.
Supposedly, the Tauren Admiral Ree was inbound. When he arrived, she would theoretically hand over some of the duties to him and his troops and then could focus more on the ground problem.
It couldn’t come soon enough.
<<(O)>>
Ensign Tish was assigned to work with the Tauren industry on the stations and in the star system to build what the jarheads needed for the eventual invasion.
Up until they’d been given the go-ahead, the naval engineers had been working strictly in house from the replicators in Ninth Fleet. Now that Ninth Fleet was gone, they had only the two squadrons of cruisers to draw on initially.
Captain Hierl and the joint army-navy-marine task force that was in the process of building up wanted more than what the ship’s replicators could handle.
This was therefore the only fix short of getting someone to ship in what they needed, which wasn’t possible in the time frame that they had.
She made the rounds, met some people, and inspected their hardware. She was not impressed. Their nanites were poorly designed, and there were few in the replicators. Their computer support was pathetic. Their CAD and tooling paths were horrible. In short, they needed a lot of work.
She got them on producing generic material for the moment while she shot an urgent request outlining the problem and her possible solution to the brass.
She wasn’t surprised when the chief shot her an email back that it’d have to go further up the chain and to wait.
What she was proposing probably broke a lot of rules and would make some people gnash their teeth, wring their hands, and probably pretend they had them around her neck at the time. Well, so be it. If they wanted her to get the job done, than they needed to damn well give her the tools to get it done.
They could use the shells and support tech but the Tauren industrial replicators needed a turnkey upgrade to get them up to Federation military standards. It would be hard to do and once done they couldn’t easily undo it without a full flush and reboot.
While the powers that be debated what they wanted, she drew up a list of what needed to be done. When she did get the authorization, she wanted to hit the ground running.
<<(O)>>
The Federation ships took note of the arrival of the Tauren warships from the south. They and their crews were a welcome sight and were greeted.
Admiral Ree was pleased by the greeting and a bit amused by it. He immediately announced that he was there to take custody of the star system. Captain Z’n’ll didn’t even quibble; he immediately began the transfer of authority, much to the admiral’s relief.
He found out as he entered the star system and his people communicated with the newly-operational ansible station that the brass had been coordinating the handover through the ansible. That amused him.
Admiral Lobo, his officers, and senior enlisted were to remain in joint custody. They were still working out how to handle that trial.
His people would have to take over many of the duties in the star system while working with the Feds. They also had to interview all of the former rebels. He wasn’t looking forward to that task but it had to be done. They needed people that they could trust to get things back to normal.
<<(O)>>
Admiral Hunter smiled as he shook hands with Admiral Ree. The Tauren was a bit reserved but that was fine.
"Thank you for coming," Admiral Hunter stated.
"Thank you for taking back our star system," the Tauren replied, putting slight emphasis on the posessive pronoun.
"As soon as you can get your people on board, the better we'll feel, Admiral," Rick said with a nod.
Admiral Ree nodded back. "Let's look into that, shall we?"
"Yes, lets," Admiral Hunter stated.
<<(O)>>
Luna talked to her brother at the usual time. She had five minutes instead of two; she appreciated that.
He told her a tissue of lies about the farm and harvest season wrapping up.
She mentioned the arrival of Admiral Ree. “I don’t know if you saw it on the news, but he’s here and taking over.”
“Ah. I had heard something. I think it was on last night's news or on the net. Huh. Ree, huh?”
“Yeah, the Feds are handing over everything to him.”
“And here people thought that they were here to stay,” he scoffed.
“No way,” she shook her head and then realized he couldn’t see her. “They have a deal with the Confederation. They just want their people.”
“Ah.” He paused for a few seconds. “Huh. Well, they sure don’t act like it.”
“Really?” she asked in disbelief. They are handing everything back over to the Confederation. Their fleet has left.”
“Yeah, but didn’t they leave a bunch of ships in orbit? And take over the stations?”
“And the yard and the ships, yeah. And they stuffed everyone in transit stations until the Confederation got here. Now they are handing everything off to Admiral’s Ree’s herd.”
“Huh.”
“Bro, you haven’t heard about any illegal acts, right?” she reminded him.
“Well, we’re in the back of beyond. We’d probably be the last to know.”
“Oh. True.”
“And they control the media.”
“No, actually they’ve been hands-off there. They just don’t tell them everything that is going on.”
“Huh.” He didn’t quite sound like he believed her.
“Believe it, bro. They have gone out of their way to not antagonize anyone. I’ve met a few of the aliens; I never thought they’d be just normal people.”
“Huh.”
“I mean, not all uppity and judgy.”
“Huh.”
“You say that a lot. That is your default. Oh wait, no, the default is duhh …,” she mocked.
“Funny, sis. You are so lucky you aren’t in arm’s reach at the moment,” he mock growled.
She couldn’t help herself, she giggled. It came out naturally.
He snorted.
“So, when do we expect the carpet baggers to arrive?” he asked.
“Carpet what’s?” she asked in confusion as her brows knit.
“A term I heard in the pub.”
“What does it even mean?”
“I’m not sure. Something about Feds moving in to take over our businesses and then government.”
“Bro, I just told you that they aren’t doing that,” she said patiently. “They’ve got some navy people here on the station and a bunch of those Marine types. I think there are like, six or seven hundred all told of the ones in camo, but don’t quote me on that. Hardly what you’d send as an invasion force, right?”
“True,” he said thoughtfully.
She felt a thrill of fear but took the plunge. “At the moment, there is I think a hundred or so on each planet. I could be wrong.”
“We haven’t seen any,” he said doubtfully.
“Well, it is a big planet,” she responded with a characteristic exasperated response. She felt a little nettled over that reply. He was drawing attention to something she had rehearsed to give to him casually.
“True.”
“And you are on the farm, bro,” she teased she said as she felt more natural about the responses she was giving.
“Also true.”
“So, what are they doing?”
“Waiting for more of the Confederation to show up at a guess. I haven’t heard anything.”
“Well, mom always said you went up there to make friends. Maybe you should.”
“I’m still getting used to seeing aliens every day,” she temporized. “I’m not all chummy and all that. I’m supposed to work with a few starting next week.”
“Well, make friends. You’ve got some right? Girlfriends I mean. Boy friends are not allowed. sis,” he growled.
She chuckled and smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she teased.
“Me, mom, dad, and the whole herd,” he growled.
“Well, it’s for me to know and you not to find out,” she said wickedly.
“You’ve got to come down for a holiday sometime, sis. Mom will guilt trip you into it, wait and see. And when you do …," his voice turned mock menacing, "I’ll get it out of you.”
She grinned. “As if. I’m faster and smarter than you. You are just a big farm clod. Big and yeah, strong, but I can run circles around you.”
“You’d be surprised,” he growled back.
“Funny.” she saw the countdown switch to red. “My timer is about up. Stay safe. Don’t drink and drive,” she scolded.
“Yes, mom,” he mocked.
She made a kissing sound and then cut the circuit.
After the conversation, she sat back thoughtfully. Friends? Okay, she could look into that …
<<(O)>>
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Chapter 3
Cryptorium, Upsilon Sector
The Technomancers were pleased as they loaded copies of themselves into the support ship. The ship had been thoroughly tested and was ready for her mission.
They were displeased with the mission, as they had been supplying the Xenos with freshly cloned organics the Xenos had claimed most of the territory in the region. They were isolated. They would have to travel outside the Xeno claimed area to set up a new base.
As soon as the ship was away the makers began to make a second ship.
<<(O)>>
Barataria Bay, Upsilon Sector
Hazel VI was surprised by the new IFF on the telemetry feed for the sector. The Necrons had deployed a new ship to the sector; no, it had been built by the Crypt? She frowned and then nodded slowly. That explained why they had been preoccupied. It amused her; they were going to have to travel far to get beyond her border. By the time they got there, they might find that Chester had taken the area and they’d have to go even further afield.
They also would lack an ansible to communicate and coordinate their ships. Additional ships were in the bridge she noted, so they were taking a higher interest in the sector. Very well.
<<(O)>>
Admiral Chester IV noted the new ship as well. He was annoyed but then amused. The ship was headed south but had a ways to go to get to space he had yet to conquer.
There were three main prizes left in the sector, all pirate bases. He had forces dispatched to two of them. He’d had to divert some cruisers to block the path to Tau; there was a report that several pirate ships had managed to escape in that direction.
That was vexing to him. The odds were low that they survived the trip, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like anything that might get him in trouble with the queen.
<<(O)>>
In Hyperspace
Admiral Chester grimaced as he noted that there was another time discrepency. His ships had something going on that the techs didn't understand. He didn't understand it. What he did understand was that the Necron ships had been lost briefly and were now taking far longer than they should to get to their target destination.
But, they were finally on course. That was the important thing.
<<(O)>>
TauG13-95, Tau Sector
Senior Captain Cynthia Troll nodded as she read the latest report from the prize ship. So far so good, the prize crew were settling in and making inroads to repairs and upgrades. By rights she should be grateful for another hull … except this one was so dang old.
Old, battered, and decrepit with a bad history. Worse, it pulled crew away from the ships in her tiny task force. Each of the five ships had donated a draft of personnel. They were also working on an AI to help support the ship and crew.
The good news was that her Prometheus was a tender. Her engineering department was oversized and designed for making repairs to another ship … or building infrastructure. They were going to spend the next few weeks getting the ship sorted out and then on her way. She would be trailing behind them for some time until she caught up.
The realization that the Xeno threat in Upsilon was real had crystalized her decision process on their ultimate destination. They didn't need or want to be on the direct path of a potential invasion force from the neighboring sector. That left TauG5-98 Firework Blossom. The state people in that yacht were going to have to talk fast and work their magic to seal the deal.
That left the thorny problem of getting news of their catch and the danger that they were facing to the Federation.
She had a support force coming up behind her. There was also an ansible transport and her escort. She had endured a debate between the captains on who should return to the Federation. She had ended it by stating flatly that they would leave a message for the ansible transport to stop and set up an ansible and report in ASAP.
That still left the little matter of the crew of the suspected pirate ship. Well, they weren't going anywhere and well, her ship was a factory tender … they would stick them on ice once they built some stasis pods … after they were interviewed and processed of course.
<<(O)>>
Lieutenant Iwa casually monitored the interviews with the alleged pirates from Upsilon. What they were saying was deeply troubling. Very troubling indeed.
The four cruisers and single tender were on their way to the north to set up a naval base there with an eye to protecting the sector from possible threats in Upsilon. Along the way, they had recently captured an alleged pirate ship, the Sweet Boni Blackheart, a Cleveland class cruiser. She was a decrepit thing. The crew had been doing a bit of blackmail with the natives and had surrendered readily when the Federation ships had arrived in the star system.
The captain and bridge crew of the heavy cruiser Koa were very concerned about the threat of Xenos to their north that the pirates were reporting. It was confirmation that they dreaded. The tactical teams were eager to sort out the material that they had been given from the ship's databases.
There was enough in the databases to prove piracy … to some degree. The lawyers would have to sort that out later, however.
The AI noted a newcomer headed to the improvised interview room. According to the records, this one was one of several who had reportedly escaped from a pirate prison.
This might be interesting, the AI thought as it noted the physical fitness of the human. He might be trouble, the AI thought as the Marine looked warily at the muscle-bound human.
<<(O)>>
“Sorry about the wait, we had a bit of a line,” a harried lieutenant said as he came into the room. Jack stood at attention as the Neochimp marine undid his cuffs and then stood to one side. The door closed with the second Marine guard on the outside.
The lieutenant was busy looking at a tablet. Jack went to parade rest and waited.
“So, Jack Dufresne is it?” the lieutenant asked, finally looking up. He mangled the last name Jack noted. It was to be expected.
“Dew-frane,” Jack sounded it out.
The lieutenant blinked and then sat back. “Apologies.”
“No harm no foul,” Jack replied.
“So, this is something of an informal interview. You’ll forgive me if I am not interested in eating breakfast. I’m a bit full,” the lieutenant replied.
Jack grunted slightly. He preferred to work out before eating. He hadn’t had any breakfast and was hungry. But, he would go with the flow. The whole breakfast thing was a psychological gambit to put him at ease. That was interesting, but what was more interesting was that the lieutenant was practically admitting it.
The lieutenant studied him. “You are… an odd case, I have to admit.”
“Are you my JAG lawyer?” Jack asked as he kept his eyes 6 centimeters above the lieutenant’s head. He remained standing since he had not been invited to sit.
“No. Do you want one?” the lieutenant asked tiredly. He looked a bit peeved. “A few of your shipmates have asked for one.”
Jack nodded. He had heard that from the reports of some who had returned. They’d clammed up. They’d told the others to do the same so the interviews had apparently run faster.
“That should not be necessary. You read my file?” he glanced at the tablet. He had determined to take the plunge; there was no other path forward. There was also no point in maintaining the status quo. It just… bothered him. He’d lived with Dufresne for so long it was like an old worn jacket.
“Such as it is. Most of which we’ve assembled from the interviews. You are… a security risk I’m afraid. Leading an escape from a prison station?” the lieutenant asked. He glanced at the Marine.
Jack looked a little smug briefly. “Not my first time but yes,” he said indifferently. He was amused at the mind games that the lieutenant was playing.
There was a long silence.
“I see,” the lieutenant said, seemingly amused at the admission. He made a note on the tablet. After a moment he looked up. “You are a good candidate for stasis then. Just how old are you?”
Jack cocked his head. “In or out of stasis?” Jack asked as he finally looked directly at the lieutenant.
The lieutenant blinked and pursed his lips. “I see. So, you are a sleeper?”
“Yes.”
The lieutenant straightened up a bit. His eyes narrowed. After a moment he nodded. “You have identity implants. But they are basic civilian grade.”
Jack cocked his head and quirked an eyebrow upwards. “You just scanned me?”
“You were scanned several times by medical.”
“I see.” Jack didn’t mention that if he had ID implants he had to be a sleeper. Either the lieutenant was playing coy or he had seen so many people he was getting his facts jumbled up.
“Look, I’ve had a long day. I’m a bit tired from these interviews. So, do you have anything to contribute to your story?”
“A lot actually,” Jack replied mildly. He glanced at the Neochimp marine and then back to the human lieutenant.
The lieutenant tensed a little but then relaxed.
“New at this?” Jack asked.
“No, I’ve been around the block,” the lieutenant replied. He seemed a little defensive.
Jack cocked his head. “I see. Maybe I need to talk to a spook,” he said as he cautiously tested the waters. “Someone from ONI.”
The lieutenant blinked and then his eyes narrowed. “Maybe I should have introduced myself. My name is Lieutenant Albert Fogerty the IV. I am the resident intelligence officer. I am from Bek if that means anything to you.”
“A butter bar LT is the spook? What, no one else in this little task force? And you are what, ten years out of the academy?”
“Six,” the lieutenant said clearly nettled.
“A whole six years and you made LT?” Jack snorted. “What, did you graduate as a second lieutenant? I take it you didn’t process my IFF signal I sent the sergeant?”
“I… no…?” the lieutenant glanced at the Neochimp.
Jack decided to just go for it. It was now or never. “Ah. So, is that why I was left for last? I thought you were maintaining my cover,” Jack said as he decided to take the plunge.
“Cover?” the lieutenant asked and then snorted. “Don’t tell me you are one of Monty’s long lost agents,” he said.
“Who’s Monty?” Jack asked in a puzzled tone of voice.
The lieutenant blinked and then shrugged. “Ah… never mind.”
Jack thought about it and then sighed. He held out his hand.
“What? You want to shake?”
“No, I want you to jack in to my implants so I can provide my ID lieutenant,” Jack said evenly. “I can’t transmit the full ID by wifi. They are hidden,” he stated evenly.
The lieutenant blinked again but didn’t take the extended hand.
“Color of the day is Purple. Code phrase one is The Tax Man cometh. Second is Buzz Lightyear and Woody,” Jack said as if reading off a script.
The lieutenant frowned and then shook his head. “Is that supposed to mean anything?” he asked as he glanced at the hand and then Jack.
Who was this guy who didn’t know what the color of the day meant? Jack thought in annoyance. Really? A spook who didn’t know that?
“Is your ship AI monitoring this conversation?” Jack asked. He looked around the room until he spotted the camera focused on him. He stared at the unblinking lens and amber light.
“Yes,” An AI voice said. A hologram of an AI avatar appeared on the desk. Jack’s gaze was naturally attracted to it. The AI was in uniform naturally. It was a human female and had a slight Polynesian look to her.
“I am Lieutenant Iwa.”
“Please inform the Captain I’m on board,” Jack stated formally. “I think we need to have a chat in private,” he said as he glanced at the Marine and then to the LT. “Classified Ultra Blue.”
That made the Marine and lieutenant sit up straight.
“Who the hell are you?” the lieutenant asked in a quiet voice. “You don’t just throw words like that around.” He shook himself after a moment. “Where did you hear that? Some movie?”
“I am someone you forgot apparently,” Jack replied with a grimace. “That much is now obvious. Now, do I jack in to you, the AI, or wait for the captain?” He waved his hand slightly.
“Wait for the captain,” the AI stated flatly. “The lieutenant and I do not have clearance for your implants and quite frankly I don’t trust you not to have a virus or a wraith. Captain Jackson is on his way.”
“Good,” Jack said as he went back to parade rest.
<<(O)>>
Sitrep: The book is off to Goodlifeguide, we may see the book early, we'll see how it goes. No promises!
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Chapter 2
TauR14G6-15 Blue Waters and Gentle Mist
Admiral Rick Hunter was feeling pleased with himself over the entire conquest. The Taurens were moving in to take over. His Marines were working with his sensor techs to localize the holdouts on the ground. His AI let him know that he had an incoming ansible call.
“Admiral Logan?” he asked as her holographic image appeared.
“The one and the same. Well, two but I’m the female one,” Shelby quipped.
“Cute, ma’am. What’s up?” he asked. He felt a little trepidation over her call. Since they were back in contact, he was aware of the danger to the north.
“We have a problem.”
“We have plenty of them to go around, ma’am.”
“Cute.”
“Well, you did start it,” he replied.
She gave a short nod. “I’m talking about Sedu and the hostages.”
“Ma’am?”
“Our local grunt and jarhead commanders pointed out that the stasis pods have a short battery life. So, we have a ticking clock—about a year from the time that they were unplugged.” She paused and then nodded. “Right, Boni is saying a year.”
“Oh, lovely.” He frowned. “Wait … pods usually have longer battery life spans.”
“These are mass-produced jobs not the life pods that we use in the navy. They are supposed to be hooked up to a power network. The batteries are for them to be moved and in case of a momentary disruption in the power grid.”
Rick caught on and then grimaced. “Damn.”
“I know. I found it hard to believe until they mentioned the Pele refugees.”
Rick winced. His people had confirmed that out of the fifty thousand or so refugees, only a hundred had survived their “accident.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “Well, that does put a new spin on the situation.”
“It does indeed. Which means we need you to find Sedu. I know it is a big hay stack …”
“Actually, we have him localized to a single mountain range.”
“Oh?” she asked hopefully.
“That’s the good news. The bad news is that he split the hostages between the two planets. We don’t have the other localized.”
“Oh, damn,” Shelby said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, so, what is the plan?”
“This is a Marine thing, ma’am. I’ve got a company of marines but no gunships or anything like that. They have two squads of powered armor. They aren’t set up for a planetary invasion. Boarding actions are short and sweet. This is going to get nasty. Sedu will see them coming and will be ready for them.”
Shelby nodded. “And with the hostages in play, you can’t give orbital support other than intel and communications.”
“I know, ma’am.”
“Okay, don’t go off half-cocked.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am. My people are busy for the next few weeks locking down the Tauren ships and space stations at the moment. But I think I will authorize the jarheads to get to the ground and start poking around. Set up a perimeter and start closing the noose as soon as possible.”
“Okay. We have troops en route but they are months out. You know the drill there.”
“I do indeed. We’ll figure it out, ma’am.”
“Hopefully,” Shelby replied doubtfully.
<<(O)>>
Captain Doris Hierl felt fatigue but fought the urge to sit away firmly. She tapped her implants and a spurt of adreniline cleared the cobwebs for the moment.
It didn't beat sleep. The natural boost wasn't good for her long term, sleep was the best remidee, but for the moment, it was all she had. She needed to remain alert until things cooled off.
So far so good, the boarding actions were over. They had no opposition on the ships or stations. Her people were split between guarding the improvised brig station, the captured capital ships, the stations, and finding General Sedu and his forces.
The last thing was proving tricky. They were on it though. But the newest crinkle had her nervous. The brass had determined that there was a shelf life on the stasis pods. Given what had happened to the Pele refugees, she understood it.
Digging them out was going to be … tricky. For the moment, she had one platoon on each planet trying to localize the general and colonel and lock down a perimeter. Once that was done …
Hell, she wasn't certain what she'd do. She'd figure it out she thought as she ran a frustrated hand through her short hair.
<<(O)>>
Blue Waters
General Sedu nodded as the report came in that the orbital works were in the control of the Federation. That was to be expected.
He had halted all flights in the region. There was no point telling the enemy where they were. Communications and active sensors were on lockdown as well. His vehicles were all inside. A majority of the remaining work was on foot.
He had work crews outside running fiber optic line between distant outposts. The lines were covered in a brown sheeth that didn't quite match the ground so his people had to cover it with a bit of dirt or gravel to disguise it. That was fine.
The great thing about the fiber optic line was that there were no betraying electrical traces for anyone to pick up. Just light following a channel from point A to point B.
He smiled ever so slightly. What those light pulses controlled … well, the Fed Marines would find out in good time.
<<(O)>>
So, I hope everyone had a good holiday season. Mine was mixed.
Anyway, I am between books still and working on a bunch of print projects with my new Elegoo Centauri Carbon at the moment. But I sent Shelby 10 off to Rea and Goodlifeguide so, here is the first snippet!
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Chapter 1New Tau Metropolis
Vice Admiral Shelby Logan stared at the bulkhead. Things were coming together but not how she had hoped.
"Ma'am?" Boni asked carefully.
"Yes?"
"We recieved confirmation that General Sedu went to ground with the hostages. He's taken a chunk of the reservation aliens too, apparently to work as a slave workforce. He has dug into the Eastern Reserve Mountain Range. Apparently the area is riddled with caves and mines."
Shelby scowled and looked down and then to the window. "Damn it."
"This was not anticipated."
"No, it was," Shelby said with a shake of her head. "The grunts and jarheads knew that he might pull this shit—at least find a way to fight and possibly go down fighting. Taking the hostages was not something that was considered but should have been."
"Yes, ma’am," the AI stated, grateful that her principle was beginning to think properly again.
"Let the colonels know and give them whatever support that they need. We need to end this. Preferably without a bloodbath."
"Yes, ma’am."
Shelby inhaled and then exhaled slowly. After a moment, she shook herself. "The good news is that the grunts were in preparation of this contingency." There were hundreds of troops en route to T-15. But they were scattered in various ships in transit from various locations, some as far away as Agnosta in Rho Sector.
"Yes, ma’am. Pity about the timing, most of the line troops are in Sigma."
"Don't I know it," Shelby stated in disgust. "And it doesn't help that we've got penny packets of army reservists all over the sector with expensive bases and equipment but not the right sort of troops. All weekend warriors and engineers."
"Reservists can fight, ma'am. They have the basic training."
"I don't know; I never looked too deep into the grounder's training methods. Aren't most of them support personnel?"
"Yes, ma’am. Army Corps of Engineers, some SAR, MASH, logistics, training, recruiters … a few infantry units but none larger than a company. They are scattered as you mentioned."
Shelby shook her head. That was all thanks to the partisans in congress who had spread the love with the army at the expense of the navy when they had been blocking Admiral Irons’ rebuilding efforts after Horath blew up in everyone's faces. "My point stands."
She scowled. "Alert all commands to support any movements. If the Marines or army need transport, I want them moved within twenty-four hours if possible. Less is better."
"Aye aye, ma’am."
<<(O)>>
Lebynthos
As soon as the details began to come in, the 2 Colonels had their schedules changed so that they could sit down with each other and discuss it.
“Good news, Lobo is out of it and the navy has control of the star system.”
“With the exception of the ground,” Colonel Letterman said as he continued to study the report. His jaw flexed when he got to news about the hostages.
“So, worst case confirmed, you were right. He went to ground and took the hostages with him. Now we have to dig him out without rock bombing his ass into oblivion.”
“Exactly,” the army colonel said with a resigned shake of his head.
Brown eyes surveyed the army colonel. “You don’t look happy at being right,” the Neochimp said.
“That’s because I’m not,” Colonel Letterman sighed. “This is going to be a bitch.”
“I know. Good news, Taurens do not like enclosed spaces.”
“True. But there is a ticking clock.”
Randy blinked. “Oh? Why the sense of urgency? The hostages are still in their pods right?”
“Exactly.”
The Neochimp Marine’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Exactly?”
“The pods. They have a limited battery life. Unless they are hooked to an external power source.”
“Um… shouldn’t they last for like, centuries? Like Admiral Irons did?”
“Admiral Irons was in a life pod. These stasis pods are for long term movement of people. The batteries are purely there as a backup and for when they are moved around. Remember what they said about the death of the Pele refugees?”
The Neochimp blinked and then his eyes flared wide in surprise and consternation. “Shit!”
“Right. The Pele refugees died because some idiot shut the power off and the batteries shut off after a few months.”
“Oh frack…”
“We don’t have years to starve him out. Months at best.”
“Damn it…”
“Right.”
“Do the powers that be know this?”
Colonel Letterman looked up to the ceiling. “You know, that is a damn good question.”
<<(O)>>
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