Chapter 12: After Action Report.

“War does not determine who is right—only who is left.”

—Bertrand Russell

Jason woke to the familiar medical smell of the pod.

“Archduke Kargo, I welcome you back to consciousness ... You have a minor wound from a beam weapon that penetrated your shoulder. I’ve repaired your muscles, blood vessels, nerves, and skin. The joint miraculously escaped injury. You sustained a minor concussion, which I’ve repaired. You have extensive bruising on your left side. The blow you received dented the armor inward. You can continue your activities in five minutes,” said the medical AI. “May I suggest you use battle armor rather than ship armor if you anticipate a battle? You would not have sustained any injuries.”

“Thank you very much. How long have I been in the pod?”

“You’ve been in the pod for two and a half hours. You’ve had treatment using superior Empire technology, Yada, Yada, Yada. I’ve corrected your problems.”

“Thank you so much for providing superior medical care,” laughed Jason. “Where in heaven’s name did you hear, Yada Yada Yada.”

“Ship told me she heard it on your television. I watched Seinfeld following her suggestion. I hoped I would amuse you.”

“That you did.”

“My Lord, what else can I do to improve?”

“Remember, people want a compassionate pod, not one that thinks she’s the Empress of the pods and is dispensing something to a peasant.”

“Yes, I understand. What else?”

“Work on your voice. I recommend you use a deeper, sexier voice and make it husky. You sound like a fussy administrator.”

“Yes, my Lord,” said the pod, “I’ll do my best. The whole spiel of superior Empire stuff is a real bore. I’ll send you some voice samples, and if my Lord has the time, I’d appreciate your advice on the best voice. My voice is a standard one the priests install in the medical pods. I’ll check through the options I have, and I will also discuss the matter with the ship AI.”

“Will I need rehabilitation for my shoulder O wise medical AI? Is my shoulder fully fixed, or was the job incomplete, and I’ll need months of rehabilitation?” Jason asked.

“The repair is complete, and your shoulder will work adequately but is weak. Your shoulder will recover its full strength within a month. The shoulder is a complicated joint that takes time to return to normal. I will send an exercise regime to the gym to help you recover your full range of movement. Build your weights from seventy-five percent below your current levels to your normal monthly load. Don’t push yourself hard for the first two weeks. You can run as you do with the dogs. Do not engage in unarmed combat for two days. I will ask the Marine AI to modify your regime and concentrate on your legs. You may do your forms. You don’t need formal rehabilitation. Lord Kargo, you may leave the pod in five minutes. Is there anything else I can help you with?” The pod asked in a husky voice. “How is that voice, Milord? I went through the samples with the ship and selected that one?”

“That was a lot better,” Jason remarked. “Thank you very much; I do appreciate your care. Do you know what happened after I lost consciousness?”

“I will interrogate the holocams on your behalf, retrieve the holovids, and assemble them in sequence for a three-to-four-minute presentation.”

Seconds later, a hologram appeared in front of Jason. Ship Marines in tanks broke through the corridor obstruction seconds after the bridge door imploded. The enemy dashed across the passageway toward the bridge under heavy fire. The enemy disabled one of the two tanks with a portable antitank cannon.

The grenade Jason retrieved and threw off the bridge bounced out the doorway and exploded in front of the next wave of attackers, immobilizing seven. Jason smiled.

A platoon of ship Marines broke through the obstruction in the second corridor, catching the attackers in the crossfire before entering the bridge. An enemy Marine shot Jason as he fell, but ship Marines dispatched his attacker from behind a split-second later. Ship Marines captured the last attackers.

The hologram switched to the pitched battle near engineering. The attackers abruptly ceased fire and surrendered.

“Thank you,” said Jason, “I like your new bedside manner. Keep it up, and your patients will love you.”

Jason saw himself diving, throwing out the grenade, and stabbing the two Marines. He felt the burning in his shoulder and the fall before he lost consciousness. He knew he must’ve banged his head but didn’t remember. His head felt slightly fuzzy. He had a far worse concussion playing football.

“You may exit the pod. Look after yourself, Jason, and have an excellent day. You achieved impressive results.”

Jason climbed out of the pod and found eight Marines waiting for him.

“Sir, I’m Sgt. McGregor, we’ll be your guards until the ship is secure. That was a great job, Admiral. If I may say so, you were impressive on the bridge?”

“That’s kind of you to say, Sergeant. Call me Jason; I prefer informality. I have no formal military rank in the Empire. I’m going to my wardroom to clean up, and then I’ll go to one of the small meeting rooms next to the bridge.”

Jason used his implant to call Col. Harris. “Colonel, please meet me for a debrief in an hour in the smaller meeting room next to the bridge.”

“Yes, sir, I will assemble a team to debrief you fully.”

“Ship, please send me a damage and casualty report!” Jason asked as he returned to his stateroom, accompanied by the Marines.

“I’ll complete the repairs to the holes in the hull within the hour and repair the bulkheads by tomorrow. Our forces disabled forty-two enemy fighters. Thirty-one of our pilots were seriously injured, and four died. The fighters are salvageable and repairable within three days. We captured twenty-six enemy fighters. I’m bringing the seized and damaged fighters into Bay Three. Several pilots from both groups will be in pods for weeks,” Cherie replied.

“Cherie, how are you going with the weapons?”

“I’ve almost completed reloading our cannons and am rebuilding our reserves. Our engineers will replace our missiles, as we have not yet located them. We can replace our less complex missiles in two days. I can speed up the process using material from the frigates and destroyers. I advise against that approach, as we can repair the enemy ships. Furthermore, I’m mobilizing an extra four thousand repair drones and five hundred heavy construction AI bots from my reserves to speed up the process. I will bring the ships onboard to do the repairs.”

“Are there any mining resources nearby?”

“There’s a rich asteroid belt close to us. We have enough materials on board to do most of what we need, but we have found large quantities of all the rare metals necessary for missile building and repairing our damaged weapons nearby. We can rebuild the communications satellites. They are complex devices and take time and considerable effort.”

“The weapons are my priority,” said Jason. “Mine what you can while we take stock.”

“We’ll mine the larger asteroids and store the smaller ones, and I’ll extract the necessary metals and minerals as we proceed and keep the material in case we require it. This asteroid belt is a valuable resource. I shall map it for future use, and you can claim it.”

“What patrols are out?” Jason asked.

“Our fighters are scanning the surrounding area. The pilots believe this was the site of an ancient battle. I’m sending salvage drones to bring back as much material as possible. We’ll identify the vessels if we can.”

“Is there any traffic in this part of the galaxy?”

“This isn’t a regular shipping route. The wrecks are not of Empire origin. From what the drones have shown me, some are more ancient than anything we’ve seen. We’ll salvage any advanced technology we can.”

“Can you store what you find?” Asked Jason.

“I have ample storage space. It’s faster to use reconstituted salvaged material than to use mined materials. We can repair the damaged enemy ships without help. I require sixteen hours to create a materials reserve. We have enough existing material from the asteroids near Earth to repair the enemy ships and rebuild our missiles, but we will deplete our reserves unless we replenish them. We will have sufficient reserve to rebuild the entire stock of missiles three times. I will increase our reserve a further one hundred and fifty percent.”

“How long will it take to replace our gun reserves?”

“There’s an enormous pool of dark energy and matter around us. I will add to our fuel reserve and fully rebuild our weapons reserves within twelve hours. We are using automated collector pods to accelerate the process.”

“Cherie, you sound a lot better.”

“The Marine cyber-warfare group neutralized those that tried to interfere with me. You can only access my software from areas the Marines guard. The engineers repaired my sensors.”

“Cherie, what happened to the weapons reactors?”

“The saboteurs shut down the weapons reactors. When you needed ammunition, they were running at three percent of capacity. I diverted energy from my other reactors to speed up reloading. The priests did not realize I was doing so.”

“Why was it so hard for me to shoot down the single missile heading for us?” Jason asked.

“The saboteurs created missile and cannon aiming algorithms that created a lag. They also reset the weapon’s calibration to factory default. We recalibrated the short, medium, and long-range guns. We will calibrate our new missiles as we build them.”

“Thank you, ship.”

“Jason, I’ll report further when I’ve received updated information.”

The two colonels reached the small conference room ahead of Jason. Jason entered the room with two guards; the others remained outside.

He looked around. The small conference room was the most luxurious of several similar rooms near the bridge. The space provided delicate lighting to create an intimate setting. It was laid out as an elegant, dark-paneled boardroom. There were pictures of past captains and admirals and abstract sculptures on pedestals. The table was a beautiful, thick, polished piece of multicolored laminated wood. The chairs were plush and comfortable.

“I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Jason Kargo; I’m returning to the Empire from Earth.”

“I’m Janet Malone, Colonel of the Marines.”

“I’m Phoebe Harris, Colonel of the Empire fighter corps.”

They were wearing their armor with integrated helmets. Jason couldn’t see much of them.

“Col. Harris, did our fighter patrols locate other enemy ships within range?”

“Sir, please excuse us for wearing our armor; it’s standard post-battle protocol. We wear armor until our living and work areas are fully secure. Sir, your suite is under heavy guard. A security detail will accompany you everywhere until we can assure your safety,” Colonel Malone interrupted.

Jason nodded and switched his attention to Col. Harris.

“I sent out four squadrons of fighters to scout the immediate area and search for the ships that carried the pods. There is no way the destroyer could have moved those large boarding pods.”

Jason nodded, “I agree. Colonels, what is our state of readiness for combat?”

“When fully armed, this ship is formidable and almost impregnable. Even now, we can defend ourselves against a much bigger force than the one we faced,” said Col. Malone.

“We must find the ships hidden near us. The enemy fighter craft comes from the Empire. Destroyers do not carry fighters. The destroyer supported the fighters and the boarding craft, but the fighters came from a much larger ship. We will find them by searching for the ships or finding out where they are from our prisoners or the ship AIs,” said Col. Harris.

“Our pilots are preparing to return the pirate vessels to HMS Empress Alana KerRexem for repair.”

“Col. Harris, how do you move the damaged ships?” Jason asked.

“We use our fleet of tugs. We also deployed salvage and repair drones on the captured ships and a sample of the thousands of ancient ships we found nearby.”

“Is there enough space to repair the damaged vessels?” Jason asked.

“We have ample space. We’ll fit the destroyer into Bay 4, one of our small repair hangars. The remaining damaged ships will fit in one hangar with space to spare. We can carry five cruisers in our lower hangar. In four hours, I will provide accurate estimates of the time required to repair the captured ships. I suggest we meet in four hours, sir. Ship tells me that she briefed you on the damage she sustained and her repair schedule.”

Jason nodded. “Colonel, Ship mentioned the ancient wrecks nearby. What is your impression of what you have seen?”

“The wrecks are so old we can’t recognize them. Our anthropologists have classified many ships damaged in a previous cataclysmic war. These ships are even more ancient and have the scars of past battles and fatal damage following a great battle. That battle scattered vessels large and small over a light minute. Our AIs don’t recognize the armor, the civilizations, or the script. None of the ships appear in our archives. The AIs cannot yet comprehend the languages. We are salvaging as much as we can for analysis. We have had bad experiences and only do what we can safely do. Not only that, but we are careful to detach and seal potentially active technology in compartments. Some of the old ships we encountered had dangerous countermeasures.”

“How much can we use?” Jason asked.

“We can use the metals from the hulls as source material for the replicators or directly in repair. However, this is a great discovery. I expect we will find much that interests us and is valuable. Our scientists and anthropologists will be all over this site before you know it.”

“I can speak to the Emperor and Empress if you can help me. You might be able to solve my communication problems. The saboteurs blocked me from communicating with the Empire,” said Jason. “I have some critical information I must send to the Empress.”

The colonels nodded.

Janet Malone and Phoebe Harris sat at their usual table in the Marine canteen. It was cavernous, more sparsely furnished than Jason’s, but the food was excellent, and there was always plenty. Four thousand people could concurrently comfortably sit inside.

“Connie, what have you found out about our savior?” Janet Malone asked Major Constance Ross, her senior intelligence officer.

“Earth was much more primitive than any of us expected. He came on board an older man, and our medics gave him the full treatment. He is, without a shadow of a doubt, a royal. Most die on his planet before they are a hundred years old. He sees himself as old and hadn’t had sex for twenty years when he came on board. Robert said he looked ancient and ready to die the first time he saw him. Robert told me he talks about being a one-woman man and being true to his wife, who died by suicide a few months ago!”

“What do the women who know him think of him?” Asked Col. Harris.

“The women in the kitchen think Jason is a hunk of prime male flesh. Ladies, we have found a super fertile man. He is also pleasant and self-effacing. The chef, Marie, told me she senses he is dangerous.”

“Can we seduce him?” Janet asked.

“Marie said she found getting him to respond to her difficult. He has primitive cultural views that are bizarre,” Connie added.

“What is the ratio of females to males on Earth?” Phoebe asked, raising her eyebrows.

“On his planet, there are equal numbers of men and women, and many stay together for a lifetime.”

“Now I understand some of it. How old is he, Connie?” Phoebe asked.

“Jason is only eighty. He’s a spring chicken,” Connie replied, giggling.

“How well do the kitchen people know him?” Phoebe asked.

“They know him well. Marie finally got him in bed and is expecting his child. They spend a lot of time in bed. He’s happy to socialize in the kitchen and asks many questions about the Empire. He’s keen to explore his heritage. The crew in the canteen shun him, but he remains pleasant and friendly.”

Janet looked at her quizzically. “What is that about?”

Connie nodded her head sagely. “They receive emails from a nonexistent captain directing them not to talk to him. It’s a load of garbage. However, Robert told me many changed their view following the pirate attack.”

“What do we know of his family?” Janet asked.

“Marie and Robert met his daughter and grandchildren and liked them very much. His daughter was close to him and said he was a fantastic father and a beloved grandfather. He had few friends, but they were loyal and good people. Many of his best friends died recently,” Connie continued.

“Do you know what he did for a living?” Phoebe asked.

“After university, he fought in a jungle war first in intelligence, then a special forces unit. He reached the rank of Colonel. His daughter said he wouldn’t talk about his wartime experiences. After his time in the army, he worked in cybersecurity.”

“How has he been spending his time on the ship?” Janet asked.

“He’s been exercising, fighting, and learning. Some of the ship’s officers said he’s been fighting the Marine AI daily. He continues relentlessly, regardless of how much the AI throws or hits him.”

“What powers does he have?” Janet asked.

“He doesn’t have any powers.”

“Who else knows him?” Phoebe asked.

“Robert suggested I speak to the engineers and farmers about him. The engineers say he’s been asking how he can acquire a crystal. He has been spending time with them recently, learning to apply the electronics he learned. He learns fast.”

“What is he doing visiting farmers?” Janet asked.

“His family is in food production. They supplied the ship. His lordship also loves cooking and collecting fresh produce. He fishes for dinner once a week. The farmers like him. He sees them every few days, learns from them, and observes and inspects what they do. Most of them spent time on Earth and enjoyed themselves. They like his family and extended family. Robert took him to visit the farmers.”

“I am not surprised they like him; the Empire holds the Kargo family in high regard, and his great-grandfather is pleasant and capable.”

“If he was old at eighty, how can he have come from the Empire?” Phoebe asked.

“His extended family, as did his wife’s, came from the Empire. Our longevity does not persist unless we optimize each generation. The ship doctors were surprised but informed me they found high levels of toxins on Earth arising from pollution and chemicals introduced into the environment. They say the toxins lead to faster gene degradation.”

“I like the whole Royal Family Association concept,” said Phoebe. “I would rather not get my sperm from a pod. I want it by direct injection. The baby will never be a nobody.”

“I might agree, but I reserve my judgment. He is a possible candidate to impregnate me,” Janet remarked. “However, I don’t want him to start ordering us around. He doesn’t know us and our methods. I don’t want someone from a primitive planet telling me what to do!”