Chapter 56

Third Mission, inbound in star system RKO-289 aboard the FUP Shuttle Royal Yacht, 2401 CE

“Well done!” Corporal Aisins called out from my left. His voice echoed momentarily in the big space even though his Kilo helmet picked up and transmitted his voice the length of the Cargo Passageway to Fire Team Two. Standing at the aft end of the passageway, near the opened hatchway to the Engineering Compartment, the team leader gave us a wave. Like Aisins next to me, I was wearing my Kilo helmet along with the rest of my combat gear and I could have easily talked to my younger wife as well, but waved back. I was proud of G4 Anika Blaugelt-Sitwell, brevetted to that rating so she could officially lead Fire Team Two.

Not all the rest of our crew had helmets as sophisticated as the POT helmet or the Kilos, but enough contraband supplies, weapons, and protective gear were aboard the Royal Yacht to choose from, so everyone was outfitted. Each crewmember now had some kind of combat helmet, a radio, a ballistic vest, an assault rifle, a pistol, web gear, and the other equipment needed to fulfill whatever that person’s role was in their fire team. And by now, everyone was comfortable moving around and maneuvering through our training scenarios all suited up for combat.

My younger wife had just successfully directed her team, consisting of PFC Corry Groves, G3 Beatrice Henderson, and G3 Kyle Kyler to their objective. Using the available cover and providing each other with simulated mutual supporting fire, Team Two leap-frogged from the forward hatch of the Cargo Hold back to the Engineering Hatch. None of them sustained any laser tags from three of the weapons drones that, surprise, Beatrice found listed in the royal cargo manifest under Military Supplies – Defense and Training Drones, four.

When Bea brought the drones to Ron’s, Anika’s, and my attention three weeks ago, I just smiled and told them that being related to the Royal House of Piast by marriage must mean never having to depend on outside forces to provide the basics for training and security needs. I’d started laughing before announcing that I now was certain; I had some very cohesive in-laws!

Once we uncrated the units, I thanked my lucky stars the drones didn’t resemble spiders. These drones looked like camouflage-painted and track-driven 28-liter picnic coolers. Each unit could sprout a 1.4-meter-long articulated arm. The fist at the end of the arm housed an additional optics and sensor package as well as two laser heads. One was a powerful combat model for use in the perimeter defense mode; the second was the practice, tag laser. The base of each drone could be outfitted with a 40 millimeter grenade launcher if needed.

Presently, Anika and Corporal Aisins had the drones’ capabilities programmed to model the skill metrics of trained support troops defending a low priority target. The drone units had a circular, wrist-thick, two-piece composite tube that could be folded out from the top of the body box. Deployed, the hoop was a meter in diameter with 180 holographic emitters imbedded around both the top and the bottom edges of its circumference. Each of the three drones we were using projected a somewhat realistic, moving form that looked and acted like one of the support troopers we were training against. The biggest of the holographic guards was two-and-a-half meters tall inside the light-blue background field and carried the holographic automatic rifle that supposedly clipped me with a nonfatal laser hit when Team One assaulted the Engineering Hatch.

My Polka Fireball said she had no idea the drones were part of the vast collection of gear in her four sub-bays. I suggested Anika’s father had managed an end-run around the women of his household who’d been the ones to protest and then forbid Anika bringing any assault rifles along with her other hunting weapons. As we were discovering more of the items her family and her father had provided in her cargo bay, I’d come to the conclusion they didn’t expect to see her again for a long time.

In the present training exercise, we were using the three fluorescent escape pods secured down the center of the deck as points of cover for our assault training as well as the cargo bay hatchways along both bulkheads. Using some of the other amazing supplies an unknown person in Anika’s family had thought to include in her cargo load, along with some parts from two contraband electronic items I cannibalized, I’d tricked up several small wrist controllers. The units would scan for, find, and electronically override and trigger individual threshold mechanisms so we could open any of the hatches along the passageway on demand. Once we made dirt-fall, we’d need to practice using the natural terrain, but the skills our two teams were learning now would transfer to using tree trunks, rocks, gullies, and whatever else was about for cover and rally points.

Fire Team One, with Corporal Ron as our leader, included me and G2 Helen Xazan, who was armed with her confiscated AR assault rifle and a pistol and also functioned as our combat medic. G2 Jodie Jane Cazinska, carrying her confiscated AK weapon as well as a pistol, completed our team; and we had already had our turn on the makeshift assault course. Thanks to the hulking, holographic trooper, I was the only one of our group who suffered what was determined to be a flesh wound in our otherwise successful leap-frog journey down the passageway.

In the last 23 days we’d applied ourselves to daily classroom work and what, after the fourth day, became twice-daily fire team and support team exercises. We also had scheduled individualized training to learn or advance other military skills with repetition after repetition. Our teams faced a growing number of simulations addressing more complex tactical situations designed by Corporal Aisins, G4 Blaugelt-Sitwell, and RY—who also served as umpire for each simulation. We all could see our abilities to adapt and overcome were rapidly improving. Now each of us was feeling more secure in our team members’ abilities to uphold, even though I hoped we never had to find out under real combat conditions.

G2 Jodie Jane Cazinska had surprised not only herself but all of us, as she’d become a crack shot in any situation with whatever weapon we gave her. That was all due to the work Anika and Corry put in with Caz on our simulated firing range.

Jodie Jane’s newfound confidence in her weapons abilities was transferring to everything else she was doing; mentally, physically, militarily, and personally. In her personal life, if the looks she and Lieutenant Straperlo were giving each other was any indicator—along with everything she dished to the other women of the crew that I’d later hear about—I’d say Jodie Jane was a very actualized and satisfied woman.

Lieutenant Daniel Strauss Straperlo, of the ExServ Judge Advocate General’s Corps of ExServ, still hadn’t, to either Juliet’s or my knowledge, reported himself or Mister Cazinska for their actions during the SS69 event—or for anything else after that incident. My first wife, claiming commander’s discretion, hadn’t forwarded the report, which she’d included in the shuttle’s log, up through the chain of command describing the incident.

Now, during training exercises, PT and mat time, and in the galley, Mister Straperlo answered to his nickname—DS—along with Anika now answering to BS, along with all her other nicknames. DS had even won over my PAW.

In my opinion, one of the best results of the SS69 aftermath was, in conjunction with our ongoing fire-teams training, the relaxed atmosphere and sense of bonding we felt in each other’s company. However, just to make sure we didn’t develop any bad habits, averaging once in every seven day period our shuttle commander would publish in the Morning Orders and Announcements that we’d operate that day under standard ExServ protocols. Anyone failing to address a fellow crewmember in the proper manner that day would face a punishment assignment designed specifically according to the distastes of the individual offender. Since RY monitored all of us anyway, he was appointed responsible for policing the crew and assigning any extra duty to transgressors.

I didn’t understand just how well RY could perform that task until G3 Kyler had to conduct a training lesson for Corporal Aisin and me on the various types and uses of feminine hygiene products, both contraband and service issue, stocked in the Royal Yacht. For some diabolical reason, Anika’s father included a lifelike manikin as well as, in this case, a femmanikin. They were great tools when used in our first-aid training, but now the three of us were endeavoring to successfully demonstrating to RY that we had learned the proper and respectful way to provide feminine hygiene to a female patient who was unable to attend to any of her regular bodily functions, especially her monthly period. Since that exercise all three of us, so far, have never failed to address everyone in the correct manner when a Protocols Day is posted on the MOA.

In addition to our other duties, every third day Corporal Aisins, PFC Groves, I, G4 Blaugelt-Sitwell, G3 Henderson, and G3 Kyler trained together in our PAEMU suits. In the previous 10 days, some of our training simulations called on two of us to suit-up as an armored, heavy weapons asset for each of our Teams. Seeing a friend maneuvering through a simulation wearing a vac suit and deploying a high-powered laser rifle was the best morale booster I know. That, more than anything, helped bring home to each one of us the realization that we were becoming a cohesive fighting force that would present a formable deterrent to any threat we might encounter once we landed on the third planet.

Land-fall would only happen after the Royal Yacht finished scanning the surface of the third planet and the powers-that-be designated our landing-zone or zones. And we now all knew that Task Force Bertram was scheduled to enter orbit around our first objective in 12 days!

Our Reserve Team, or Support Team, depending on the tactical situation we’d be presented with, consisted of Lieutenant Straperlo as another well-armed and well-trained combat medic as well as our strategic advisor; my sweet first wife, G4 Juliet Mindenhall-Sitwell was our gun-packing shuttle pilot and commander; along with G4 Melvina Bimini as our communications specialist. Once every five days, the three of them practiced various tasks together, both tactical and practical, in vac suits.

In the first six days of our training schedule, we all learned that while Ron, Anika, and I all loved to blow things up, no one compared to Beatrice, who was now our designated explosive expert. She told us her father and brothers let her clear her first three acres of stumps when she was 10, because they were all out planting corn, soy beans, millet, and wheat in some of the fields they cultivated. She had used her own homemade fuel-oil and fertilizer charges. When she revealed some of the other things she’d blown up since then, and the ingenious ways she done most of them, we all bowed to her seven-years of practical experience—but mostly to her devious mind. And, as Corry pointed out, the rest of us had other key responsibilities that were necessary for our teams to function as a unit; so let a girl have her fun! Not that we could detonate or explode anything inside the Royal Yacht; but Ron, Anika, Corry, and I all knew that Bea was itching to push the button on a very small charge of Star-Plex. That is, once we made planet-fall and needed to clear some obstruction—and, that would be an impressive detonation!

Since our second day of travel in convoy, Corporal Aisins had maintained close contact with his designated Marine supervisor in Task Force Bertram’s security contingent, Gunnery Sergeant Colgate. Although I found out later that Juliet already knew everything from our orders, it was through Ron’s conversations with the Gunnery Sergeant that the crew learned there were two Marine Armored Assault Shuttles (AASs) detailed to protect the vessels and crews of our Task Force.

Each AAS contained one of the two platoons from the Second Rifle Company of the 69th Battalion of Second Regiment of the 14th Space Division of the First Space Fleet. Those two platoons had been detached to reinforce Major Luce’s Third Rifle Company. Each Armored Assault Shuttle, along with carrying a platoon of 48 Marines, their combat load, and supplies, also has a crew of nine. There was a Pilot, Co-Pilot, Communications/Navigations Officer, Armament Officer and 3 Armament Techs, a Technical Flight Officer, and a Loadmaster. Along with the fighting Marines each AAS carried, the Assault Shuttles were armed with a dazzling array of weapons systems for heavy attack, troop support, and reconnaissance missions.

That meant the Task Force had a lot of firepower to call on if we got into any kind of jam in orbit or down on the third planet. The only bad news about our missions in orbit and on the third planet that we’d heard so far, depending on how things went, was the Sixth Platoon in AAS-9 had a Second Lieutenant named Mazon in command. Mister Colgate was Mazon’s Platoon Sergeant and hadn’t volunteered to Ron his evaluation of Mazon’s strengths or weaknesses. PFC Corry Groves told us that, in her experience, not every butterbar lieutenant in the Corps was an incompetent asshole. However; she said she’d no experience with, or heard any meaningful scuttlebutt about, this particular officer while on the Glenndeavor.

Finding out that our developing fighting force aboard the Royal Yacht was under nominal command of Second Lieutenant Mazon really pissed off G4 Blaugelt-Sitwell!

Juliet argued with Anika, as all of us sat around the galley table eating breakfast at the time, that our orders directed us to provide security for the shuttle Bee Hive, not the entire Task Force. For a while, Anika was all for jumping on a comm channel and using her coded call-sign to contact Major Luce. Our Polka Fireball exclaimed she wanted to clarify what the chain-of-command would be concerning the crew of the Royal Yacht during our various missions above and on the surface of the third planet.

Now I could grin at those images in my mind’s eye. And with Corporal Ron Aisins beside me calling an end to our latest training module, I thought things were going very well.

Every member of the crew had quickly developed a list of personal chores and projects we wanted to work on or finish. Each of us felt we had to accomplish something other than developing our military skills during our off-duty hours on our way to the third planet, which was now being referring to as 3P. For all of us, except Lieutenant Straperlo, at the top of our lists was sending at least a text message to our various friends scattered throughout the evacuation fleet. And with the evacuation database I’d downloaded providing the necessary information that is what we did.

I shared my enthusiasm with Lieutenant Obeydezay when I learned he’d been able to save his Mister Coffee machine and all of his coffee bean supplies! He let me know everyone in the department was safe, although they were mostly spread out in small groups or as lone individuals aboard different vessels and boats in the flotilla heading toward 3P. My good code-monkey buddy, Carl, texted me the love of his life wasn’t with him. However, he knew she was safe on the same craft as a certain G5 Garret Emerson, and both were doing as fine as could be expected under the circumstances.

Other than telling our friends we were safe and answering their questions by describing in general terms some of the things we were doing, we told no one about our detached duty status with Task Force Bertram or that we’d land on 3P well before the rest of them.

After my first round of text messages, I checked off that important item from my to-do list. I finally was able to run an analysis on the powerful laptop comp I’d claimed from the Brotherhood contraband. After I reformatted the bubble drive and loaded a friendly, usable operating system, I started using the laptop to harness the incredible holographic emitters I’d claimed as well. With all the time our training required, it took a week of spending an hour or two each day to assemble all the remaining hardware parts and then code a program that that allowed me to focus and synchronize the holographic emitters properly using the new comp, but I was successful.

My finished projector project created a perfectly lifelike image above the unit without the light-blue background fields appearing to ruin the illusion. Now any subject projected simultaneously by the three emitters looked real because the combined synchronized images from the three projectors polarized the surfaces of the image in such a way to block a high percentage of the reflected light and a slightly lower percentage of any transmitted light from whatever might be behind the now solid-looking object.

In my first test four days after I finished mating the hardware and software, the recorded subject was Juliet dancing naked! The resulting holographic demonstration was only shown in the privacy of our quarters for the other members of our household. When my first wife took off her clothes and started dancing along side herself, we all knew I’d come up with something special! My first wife became extremely excited as she watched her holographic self dancing for us.

For use in the unveiling my gizmo to the rest of the crew, Bea dressed in her combat rig and I deployed my vid cams to record as she demonstrated the crisp movements of a 15 count manual-of-arms with her Steyr AUG assault rifle. After I showed the rest of the crew Bea’s performance right after supper that evening in the galley, Corporal Aisins immediately started talking to Anika and RY about how the projector could be used in conjunction with our other military assets.

During the time I worked on my projector, I’d forgotten the information I filled out on the digital form Bea came up with to survey as many of the nonmilitary skills, likes, and abilities of each crewmember aboard. The form had also asked about any entertainment items we might have managed to bring along with us during the evacuation.

It was the day after Ron Aisins and Anika assigned everyone to one of the two fire teams, and announced the three members of our support team, that RY let me know that he’d discovered the existence of my personal library of early Earth media. After I provided him with a digital listing of my catalogues, he asked for copies of the material not already included in the amazing wealth of data libraries provided on the Royal Yacht. At breakfast 10 hours after the transfer, he suggested a weekly movie night be held, to the acclaim of the rest of the crew.

At the movie-night’s premiere, I was introduced to the first three episodes of Frontiers of Danger! It was a very weird experience. Kirtland Boyer, the actor playing the main character of the show, Space Agent Dunkerdale, delivered his lines using the voice I now thought of as belonging to RY, our ship’s friendly AI. I found it was actually disturbing for the first half-hour. While Kirtland Boyer was a rugged-looking tall man, his features didn’t look anything like how I’d picture RY’s intelligent, inquisitive face.

I finally allowed myself to enjoy how bad the episodes were, and watching Juliet’s face when she didn’t know I was looking at her response to Dunkerdale was enlightening. When Anika, Bea, and I got into our bunk later that evening, we were delighted by Juliet’s passion!

A few days later as I worked on my projector project in Anika’s workshop, RY asked me three different questions. The first concerned the concept of a honeymoon in a sexual relationship between a man and woman. I asked what he wanted to know and why? RY told me that as a part of his responsibility to monitor all the compartments on the Royal Yacht he’d notice an interest fact. He said that since the incident. which the crew now all seemed to call SS69, the two couples who formed during the Siren event, when compared to the pre-SS69 couples, were engaging in some sort of sexual activity 2.333 times more often—could he interpret the difference in those two dissimilar rates as an expression of the honeymoon concept?

I agreed that he could. But I also told RY that all of us had been working very hard training and concentrating on learning new skills so he shouldn’t judge the pre-SS69 couples based on such a short baseline of study. He countered by saying that, from his information, most honeymoons still averaged between 10 and 14 days, so my contention about the short time baseline of his sampling was unfounded. I told him we still had 3 days to reach the upper limit of the average and he should wait before drawing any conclusions.

After I said that, I felt like I was just making an excuse and told him so. Then I told RY he should do a study on snuggling, which could be as satisfying and comforting as sex when people loved each other and were secure in their relationship, or relationships in my household’s case. The Royal Yacht’s AI said he would research my premise and let me know his findings.

Then, RY asked me if it would a good idea to show a video at our next movie night that portrayed college life. I told him I didn’t have an opinion, but wanted to know what had prompted his question. He told me he’d heard several of the crew discussing their experiences in college at various times. RY said he’d noticed Anika’s biometrics indicated she was interested in what she heard about the subject when she was present. He knew that because of her family, she’d always had private tutors. RY told me that the only times she ever experienced camaraderie similar to the college experiences she overheard—before she enlisted—were all those times she was training with her father’s household troops. Since many of her experiences with her peers after enlisting weren’t all that positive, RY said he thought she might enjoy seeing one example of what other people experienced during their college days.

Not knowing what he intended with his line of reasoning, and after asking him if he was trying to brown-nose his employer, I told him his idea could have merit. RY actually chuckled and let me know that he was trying to please and impress every person aboard the Royal Yacht! Then I learned from him that was why he’d suggested movie night. He said he wanted to present a movie that would have some special meaning for each one of us as the Task Force made its way to 3P and he wanted to continue with movie night after the Royal Yacht landed so all the crew could have a special movie experience. I was actually touched by his idea and wondered what movie he’d pick for me and how he’d decide?

With his third question, RY asked me if I had psychic abilities when it came to the three women of my household. To say I was flabbergasted was an understatement! When I didn’t say anything as I tried to decide how I wanted to answer, RY told me I didn’t have to say a word if I didn’t want to do so. RY told me that he hoped he’d not upset me with the question, but he’d noticed I often anticipated the individual wants or needs of Juliet, Anika, and Beatrice, while at the same time my biometric readings indicated a momentous activation of my right parahippocampal gyrus that, he informed me, was arguably the best indicator of psychic activity in a human being.

While I was overwhelmed and still unable to formulate any reply, RY told me that I need not worry about him repeating any of our conversations. He considered any conversations he had with individual members of the crew as privileged information. Unless a particular person gave him permission to do so, he’d never tell anyone else, or any of his AI colleagues, what was discussed.

When I was finally able to say something, I asked him about what he’d learned from the AI on the Lord Gort about Captain Bertram being very impressed with Juliet preparations after receiving her orders to join his task force. RY told me that the AI aboard the Lord Gort had heard, along with two of Bertram’s officers and several of his crew, the Captain saying those words over breakfast, so there was no violation of a confidential communication.

RY quickly apologized for interrupting my work, and said if I ever did want to talk to him about what he’d asked, he’d be more than glad to continue the conversation. Then he told me, if I ever could make the time that I should lookup the information available on Doctor Arrbra Die Florrie’s ongoing research that she’d developed with her late husband. After all, RY said, the Doctor was a friend of my household and one of the reasons the Royal Yacht was detached to Task Force Bertram.

By that time, I was only able to nod my head and stare down at my work on the bench as I mumbled something that sounded like, “Okay, talk to later.”

So, on our next movie night, we watched a color film from Earth that was released way back in 1978 EAD. The plot was based around a group of fraternity brothers at a fictional college in 1962 EAD. This one was from my own collection, so I knew we’d not be seeing a retelling of college life that closely represented the experiences of average college kids. Whatever possessed RY to pick this movie was beyond me, but I sat back and enjoyed the show along with everyone else.

I should have know something was afoot three days later when Melvina Bimini and Helen Xazan offered dancing lessons in preparation for a soiree they were putting together for the crew that was going to held in the lounge of the cargo bay housing our quarters. For two evenings after supper, we all learned strange dances, such as the Gator, the Shag, and other archaic dances. RY provided all the proper music the two women wanted for our lessons, as he would for the dance as well. I was surprised when ‘DS’ Straperlo, Bea, and Juliet volunteered to make finger sandwiches and cookies. Anika said she’d provide a small selection of alcohol, but told us we’d all be limited to three drinks each. Beatrice brought out her marker beacons and a controller to provide mood lighting.

After talking about it, the day before the dance, Corry and I created a draped-off cubicle to place in the lounge. We used some very slick, slinky material that Anika gave us. In her bay that contained clothing and other items we found quite a few big bolts of the material; we had six different colors to pick from and decided on black. Corry named the near tent-like structure Seven Minutes in Heaven, but the small enclosure was really a place that DS and Caz could go together for slow dances like the couple they were, if they decided not to flaunt regulations. The next day, after our not-so-filling supper, most of us had a surprise when we returned to our quarters to get dressed for the shindig—we found out we were going to have a toga party, like the party we saw in the movie. Our togas, made from the same material Corry and I used to put up Heaven, were waiting for us with a note on each one that said, “Underwear optional!”

While everyone aboard knew they were together as a couple and supported DS and Caz, Juliet and Lieutenant Straperlo told each of us once all the celebrants showed up in our lounge, that Heaven was a good idea. Anika thought so too. Getting me alone by the drinks table, she informed me I was going to get doubled up on by her and Corry for at least one blowjob before the dance was over—saying she wanted me to give her a pearl necklace for all to see!

Task Force Bertram was moving toward 3P at the near-maximum velocity attainable by the slowest vessel in our convoy. With every hour we’d traveled since accelerating away from the evacuation fleet, the Task Force was leaving that collection of different vessels, shuttles, and evacuation boats farther and farther behind.

Technically, the sheer distance from the point the Glenndeavor was abandoned to the nearest orbit point of the closest Earth-Norm planet in the system, when combined with the operational constraints of many of the evacuation boats in the evacuation fleet, made 3P the only option for our final destination. Depending on the type of craft our fellow crewmembers ended up boarding during the evacuation of the Glenndeavor, it was a certainty that a fair percentage of the evacuees would have to enter stasis to have a chance of remaining alive long enough to look up at the night stars from the surface of 3P. And for the evacuation fleet to safely land on the surface of 3P, the Royal Yacht had to scan and map the planet so landing sites could be identified, surveyed, and made secure before they arrived.

To successfully enter orbit around 3P, the Royal Yacht and the rest of Task Force would have to reduce velocity a great deal. If that didn’t happen correctly, several of the vessels operating at or near the limits of their performance envelop would go right past our goal. The point along our course where braking had to begin was set by the slowest vessel in the convoy. With the limited thrust available from that craft’s propulsion system, the craft would take the longest time to reduce its speed to match the necessary orbital velocity needed. It was vital that during all of Force B’s maneuvers the integrity of our formation was maintained to allow the two Marine Armored Assault Shuttles of our security detachment to continue providing defensive coverage for the convoy.