Chapter 656

The Prison Planet

Ship had received permission from her Prime to go back to Earth long enough to pick up Arlene, Ann and the other aviators, then take the Wing to orbit for its launch. The trip to Earth and back would only take a few minutes. Giving the interceptors a ride to orbit and their launch would take only a few minutes more. The interceptors normally remained in their bays on Ship’s flight deck, so she would have to go back anyway. Also, she would have to return to Earth again when the Wing would be due back.

Jeff told her just to let him know when she left so he would be more alert for animal danger.

Shortly after Ship arrived back on Earth, Arlene and Ann, in full uniform, walked into Arlene’s office. As Arlene slid into a seat that was far too prestigious — in her opinion. Ann sat on the corner of the desk, partially turning to face her boss/sister-wife.

Against Arlene’s objections, Ship had insisted that she have a desk “befitting her position” as Wing Commander.

Shortly after Arlene had taken over as the Interceptor Wing Commander, the General had sent her the paper backup files as well as a digital copy of the aviators’ files, saying that holding a hard copy of the file in his hand seemed to give him a better concept of the person the file represented, and thought it might work for her, too. She wasn’t sure whether he was messing with her or not. Although she constantly used a computer, after a time, she had found herself reading a hard copy more often than she ever thought she would. The files contained every assignment the airmen had participated in during their careers as aviators for the General, along with much of the radio traffic between the units during practice and combat.

Arlene had, at first, thought the files would only cover training missions, but there were a number of secret missions the aviators had flown here on Earth. So far, other than drones, there had been no flight missions off-planet for various reasons — one being the size of Earth’s fighter jets that were far too big to fit through the portal. Some of the teams had reported encountering space-capable fighter craft piloted by an aggressive race. The race seemed to be after some of the things the General hoped to obtain. It usually meant the research teams would have to hurry back through the portal. Pulse rifles would take down the fighters, but they could stand off well beyond the horizon and fire guided missiles. It would be suicide even for the assault teams to try and take out the space fighters.

She remembered that Jeff had mentioned that the General wanted a squadron of interceptors for off-world work, but so far, Ship had refused to provide the interceptors and also insisted that the thirteen she had built would remain with her as her own defense as well as that of Earth’s. Even if Ship should approve, the physical size restrictions prevented an interceptor from being sent with the research teams.

Jeff, Arlene and Ann had discussed the subject, worrying that the General’s research teams might someday be able to expand the portal enough to accept an interceptor. If that happened, the Prime worried that Whitworth would want Arlene to lead rescue and protection missions on other planets with interceptors from her wing. The General managed to send the crawler and tractor through, but interceptors were considerably larger, both in width as well as length. The three had agreed that the interceptors were the only logical way to engage a race with air supremacy, but the Prime didn’t want his wives involved in life or death situations when they didn’t absolutely have to be. He wasn’t sure he even wanted his wives flying interceptors other than training missions and the training for the parade/show, certainly not unless Earth or Ship was in danger.

While Whitworth and Jeff had been discussing the matter, Ship reminded them that she would only allow her interceptors to be used for Earth’s protection, or to protect or escort herself, and to participate in the air show that would, hopefully, boost Earth’s morale after the devastation wrought upon her by the Miadax. Also, there had to be ongoing training exercises to keep the pilots’ abilities up, and of course, any excursions dictated by the Prime, but she would not allow her interceptors to be sent off-world to fight other races’ craft.

The General had not been pleased, but Ship and Jeff would not budge. Whitworth was no fool. Attempting to replace Jeff — not that he would ever be able to — would result in alienating Ship. Whitworth was the General — the ultimate in command. But ... Ship responded only to her Prime or those others that he permitted to command her.

Jeff knew that other races had snatched sites away from the General’s research teams because they had ultimate air power on the planet while the General had none. Even with all that the General’s teams had discovered, relatively easy space flight didn’t seem to be one of them, and Earth was even farther behind than many of the civilizations the General’s people had inadvertently met. Several teams had been attacked by the alien fighters and had to scramble back through the portal, even though they had made the original discovery. Staying would involve fighting space-capable fighters from a fixed position — in other words, suicide.

So far, some very few of the alien races encountered had space-capable fighters and used technology that neither Earth nor the General’s people had managed to obtain. He had hoped that Ship would share her drive technology with him, but so far, she had refused, and Jeff had not tried to push her to share.

The fighters had shown up on three widely separate occasions on desolate planets that were rich in rare minerals. The mother ship had never been seen, and no one knew where the race originated, but the fighters always attacked without provocation.

“If I give the General my drive technology,” Ship had told her Prime, “at some point, the secret will get out, and Earth will soon have space-going warships. How long then will it be before Earth is involved in an interstellar war? I will not be the cause of that.”

Arlene glanced at her watch. “It’s almost time. Shall we go meet the team?”

“Are you going to do it, or shall I?” Ann asked.

Arlene chuckled as she came to her feet. “There is probably only one person this will affect, and there’s nothing I can do to please him, so I’ll do it.”

Ann grinned as she fell into step beside her partner.

All the aviators, save one, were already on the Flight Deck and waiting. Ann told them to Fall In and brought them to Attention just as Worthington walked in, obviously in no hurry. Technically, he had been on time because he was there five seconds before the scheduled time.

Although all were lined up and at Attention, he assumed his position beside his partner, still in no hurry.

When Ann gave the command for Parade Rest, all except Worthington snapped to the Rest position but remained attentive to what their Commander would say. Worthington was slow and not precise at either Attention or Parade Rest. He wasn’t blatantly showing his attitude, but it was definitely there, and several of the aviators had already noticed.

Arlene raised her voice. “From this moment forward, I want each of you to have equal time as the Command/Primary Pilot. This should have been going on from the beginning, and I think it has been for most of you. I have instructed your AIs to keep track of this, and there will be no deviations from the order. To make it simple for everyone to remember, the AIs will keep track of the time and will tell us when it is time to change.”

Worthington’s face was red as he snapped out, “That’s ridiculous. Some of us are better than others as the Primary Pilot.”

“All the more reason to make certain everyone has equal time at each position,” Arlene returned, reasonably, her voice calm, although her temper wasn’t.

Arlene motioned to Ann, who snapped out, “Attend ... hun.” Then a second later, “Dis ... missed to your interceptors.”

As soon as the teams were out of earshot, Ann whirled on her Commander. “Are you going to let him get away with that?” she asked with her face red.

Arlene just chuckled. “Oh, he’s trying his best to make me come down on him for some minor infraction so he can make me appear to be singling him out.”

“He certainly has a short memory,” Ann grumbled. “Jeff would have dismissed him from the unit because of his foolish stunt when we were fighting the Miadax. You not only let him come back but gave him a brand-new interceptor.”

Arlene was shaking her head. “Our husband could do that because he’s a Colonel while I was just appointed head of this unit — a seventeen-year-old girl. I need to outthink Worthington, or I’m going to come over as picking on him.”

“Bullshit,” Ann snarled. “You were given the position of Wing Commander because someone had to train the aviators. Only Jeff knew how to fly the interceptors, and you kicked everybody’s ass in training except him. Worthington is an arrogant prick who almost got his partner killed as well as himself because of his arrogance and refusal to follow the rules. He isn’t a team player and never will be. His arrogance will get both of them killed if we ever have to fight again.”

“No one will have to fight with him, but I’m going to let him hang himself so there will never be any doubt why he was dropped from the unit. You know he will try to blame everything on me. Well, I’m just making it a little bit easier for him to hang himself.”

In unit thirteen, Worthington had bulled his way into the interceptor first, but as he tried to sit, the seat would not slide back to open the Command Pilot’s position for him.

Just as Worthington gathered breath to berate the AI into opening the Command Pilot’s position, it/he spoke. “Lieutenant Camp will be the Command Pilot for the first two hours.”

“The fuck you say. Open the position,” Worthington snarled.

“Lieutenant Worthington, you were the Command Pilot during the entire last mission. Therefore, it is only logical that the rotation should start with Lieutenant Camp.”

“Open the fucking position, you piece of shit,” Worthington screamed.

“I am following orders the way I understand them. However, I might have made a mistake. Should I contact the Wing Commander for clarification?” the AI asked reasonably.

“I...” Worthington began hotly, but reason finally came to the fore.

“Shall I contact the Wing Commander for verification?” the AI repeated in the same reasonable voice.

“No,” Worthington snarled.

“You need to move so I can have access to my console,” Camp said. “Otherwise, we will be holding up the Wing.”

“Oh, fuck it,” Worthington snarled as he pushed by Camp to assume the Second Pilot’s/Gunner’s position a few feet away.

Arlene and Ann passed a glance after hearing every word that went on inside unit 13. Apparently, Worthington had been too busy to pay attention during Ship’s first class when she demonstrated the AIs capabilities and those of the Commander’s unit.

Camp was fully seated, but Worthington was still griping when Ship moved their interceptor across the bay and launched it into space. Rather than risk making a bobble, since he barely had time to take over the controls, Camp let the AI slot them into position. Ten seconds later and in perfect unison, all thirteen interceptors went to a quarter light; their destination — Mars,