TJ & Morg
Chapter 47

Copyright© 2009 by Green Dragon

"Ivy! What a pleasant surprise. I thought our date was for tomorrow."

"TJ? Morg? What the blue Hades are you doing here? And that is mine!"

"I don't particularly want him ... Morg, take two and see to ours, please."

Morg nodded and was indicating his choices when Ivy interrupted,

"They're both safe and you can't go in there; that's a crime scene."

The atmosphere became sort of sparkly as Morg's helmeted head slowly turned to face Ivy,

"And you are going to stop me?"

Ivy looked at the heavy assault beam rifles in the hands of the Sundowners and their spread and orientation covering the constables (in body armour and light weapons [relatively speaking]) and reconsidered her position — if it had been TJ, she might have tried it on, but not with Morg once the challenge was thrown down.

"Sergeant Matteroe, take Mr Windsor round the front way, please, and make arrangements to take statements from the girls. Be careful where he goes; don't mess up the place any more than you have too. Now, can I have that?"

'that' started struggling in TJ's armoured grasp,

"Look, Mr TJ, don't give me to her, please. You know what she'll do to me."

TJ's helmet turned towards 'that' and, with overtones of thick ice, sulphur and brimstone, his voice came slightly distorted over his speaker,

"And you think you'll be better off with me?"

'that' slumped and a constable cuffed him, informed him that he could remain silent etcetera with clear implications that it didn't matter a brass continental anyway and led him off.

...

While TJ and Cedric were turning out the locater chips in the clean room and getting organised as to how to implant them, Clare was faced with a delegation from the students who, somewhat pointedly, suggested that they would like to be consulted before foreign bodies were inserted into their persons. Clare privately admitted they did have a point — Cedric had dragged TJ along with him and become totally lost in the problem to the exclusion of little things like 'would a student agree?'

The students actually did agree with the idea but wanted some details like 'will it hurt, blow up, kill me?' Clare organised Leading Hand Timothy Heventer to liaise with Cedric each day, get the latest information and publish it on the notices 'puter. Relying on Cedric, when his mind got tunnelled (closed?), to do anything outside his duty cycle was like relying on the weather — just a trifle unpredictable from day to day.

That little ruction resolved.

Clare's neurones became agitated with implications circling about the principle Cedric had exposed — keeping students safe yet allowing them to take advantage of the foreign travel. Nobody had looked upon the 'dark side' and were relying upon the law enforcement agencies of the proposed stopovers — great care had been exercised in selection of such stops.

The time taken to notify local authorities and then their reaction time nullified the advantages of timely information. Applying her naval trained mind to the problem, the only solution was a ready reaction force to move at five minutes notice. She had the equipment both to gather the information and to deliver the force to wherever it was needed. However, the Sundowners had last undergone ground tactical training during their recruit training days and probably none of them had been enthusiastic about it; they could handle and fire their personal weapons, but being part of a ground force integrated with the supporting firepower of 737 was a pipe dream (with the bowl filled with mind blowing intoxicants).

(Her mind suffered from tunnel vision also at times and this was one of those times.)

A legged fluff ball in the enviro duct picked up the unguarded thoughts and communicated them back to the Colony who had kept a very low profile during the immediate past. The Colony considered the situation and a thought entered Clare's consciousness,

{Are the technical manuals in the 'puter? The crew can train up on them.}

Clare took several minutes of mental self argument before she realised the Colony was communicating. Booting up the com screen of the bridge console, after acknowledging Janice Dawson and Sandra Pendle in the seats (you don't ask your Captain what the Hades she is doing), the manuals were retrieved. US Marine Corps, but who was objecting.

'Why did I need to get these?'

{We have a possible solution but you will have to get someone to read them. We can then use the reader's memory and transfer the knowledge to the minds of the others — that is those who will let us in.}

Clare's mental evil grin illuminated the darkest recesses of her mind — scoring the odd point off TJ was always a warm fuzzy feeling and wasn't this odd.

TJ was located approaching the mess stimulant urn for resupply taking a break from staring at chips through the 'scope (Cedric got so immersed at times he had to be retrieved by Jane or Mary who had accepted life as his keepers — in return for some fringe benefits).

"TJ, I have a problem and you are the solution."

TJ's face became somewhat panic stricken at the thought of mentally digesting ground pounder tactical manuals until another thought cleared his brow,

"Yeh, I can see what you want, and why; but it ain't gonna happen before Settlement — not enough time! I can't read all that in the time and besides the crew will need some exercise in the training. Could do it in the Machine Shop when C deck are at lecture. But can't be done in the time."

It was Clare's turn to become concerned. She acknowledged that TJ just could not read the manuals in time himself. Even including herself in the study probably wasn't going to ... There weren't enough available off duty crew; true, and continuity might be a problem; but there were Sundowners available who were not as closely involved in the ship's running.

Clare, TJ and the Daughters spent every available moment reading an allocated part of a manual with greatest emphasis on house to house combat. The Colony transformed the knowledge to the rest of the Sundowners and reinforced the knowledge of the readers.

LH Heventer, in the course of liaising with Cedric, having access to the crews' accommodation, (always obtaining prior permission, ) became aware of this reading and expressed his curiosity. Not being told the information was even confidential let alone secret, Timothy casually mentioned it to some of his fellow trainees. Thus it came about that when the Sundowners began their stumbling attempts at practice, there were trainees expecting training.

(You didn't think the Daughters were going to be bored and sit this out — broidery only kept the mind turning over for so long and besides they had Marine armour too. 'Firearms' might be a problem though.)

There is nothing like teaching to reinforce knowledge and develop practical skill.

Clare had no intention of using trainees but they served a purpose and at planetfall, "Sundowner" had her ready reaction force. Inexperienced, and barely above being inept — but it would take a trained body of troops to take them out and they didn't have to be trained on the naval side of combined ops.

Planetfall and berthing at one of the minor passenger terminals at Settlement second dog five day had gone smoothly. Local hire was arranged; D and E decks duties were allocated; rosters were established and leave parties organised.

TJ commed Ivy and arranged a meeting but it was three days hence on oneday because of clash of their duty rosters. Ivy offered to contact Sally, who was now a Paymaster Lieutenant in Second Space Lord's office, and arrange a meeting if possible oneday.

(Austin Neville, now Sir Austin, had tired of the peregrinations through the black void of space and returned six months early. Pat had returned to Gorgipest to take up her appointment of Gorgipest King-at-arms and was at Sloane Square with Julie thoroughly enjoying herself [no details supplied].)

Sixday lectures had been cancelled and the school went to harbour watch to ready for the business activities beginning sevenday.

A group of students had departed eight morning to see the sights and then visit the galleries and museum.

The Action Stations gongs shattered the tranquillity of the preparations to open the Club for business — it was just before six forenoon. Cedric's disembodied voice came over the tannoy,

"Action Stations ground combat. Reaction Force close up. 737 crew close up. Actions Stations all hands ground combat."

Clare burst onto the bridge struggling into her uniform jacket. Cedric didn't pause putting himself in his armour as he reported,

"Student at the museum reports two of the females kidnapped. Transponder (nodding at holo) shows they are still moving. Can't get continuous location as the locaters need time to charge up. Codes identified. Suggest alternate challenges on each code. I request relief, ma'am, I'm piloting 737."

"Mary and Susan full bottle?" referring to the duty watch on the seats.

"Aye, ma'am!"

"I relieve you, Mr Cahlewis."

"I stand relieved, Ma'am" tailed off as Cedric hurtled off the bridge heading for the starboard boat bay followed by a stream of armoured bodies, eight of whom grabbed side arms and assault rifles from the armoury racks.

TJ was glimpsed heading for the port boat bay clutching his personal armoury. In the midst of assessing the situation, Clare thought to herself that she must find out what he had in that kit.

{Don't ask! You don't really want to know.}

TJ completed donning armour and clambered into "Bulb" and exited the boat bay through the force field which had formed as a result of Orville's part in the scheme of things. Clare directed him to the region of the transponding returns and transmitted the data to "Bulb" 'puter. TJ reported the signals were emanating from a factory site surrounded by warehouses and other factories.

TJ dropped "Bulb" onto the back street, parking her neatly beside the curb, and as nonchalantly as a person wearing black armour could, casually strolled the short distance to the site and, not bothering with a gate, jumped the fence.

{We go in and look.}

TJ became aware of several different tugs on his thinking apparatus and found he had hitchhikers aboard his suit; accepting that they could go where no man could go, he forced an incompletely sealed door just a little bit wider allowing his passengers to disembark and disappear inside. As the reconnaissance reports came in, TJ entered them on his PDA, transmitting the updates to "Bulb" for rebro to "Sundowner" et al.

The scouting team reported the presence of seven females sharing a cabin off to one side of the cavernous space with seven persons moving about a galley next to the cabin; the arachnids found an entrance into the cabin which was as black as the inside of a ration tin and took up positions where they could greet a visitor to the cabin. One of the petite observers had remained outside the cabin to observe activities and report.

Things secured, TJ awaited reinforcements and requested 737 use its ground penetrating radar (normally used on bunkers and the like) and obtain a TD picture of the shed and underground for possible bug out passages. Cedric obliged and two such exits were located. Morg and his team of seven were disembarked further away — an assault shuttle is a trifle larger than a flivver, after all, and a secondary thoroughfare was chosen.

The sight of an armed section of armoured marines alighting on a Queen's way from a passing assault shuttle did worry a number of concerned citizens who reported their observations to the authorities. These reports flooded the 'boards of the local constabulary, newsfaxes and the vid services.

The local constabulary was annoyed at this intrusion into its jurisdiction but put that aside to deal with a more pressing matter. "Sundowner" had, as its civic duty, informed the constabulary of the kidnap and extended that duty, as a matter of courtesy, by further supplying the location of the victims. This latter information actually hampered proceedings as it cast doubt on the authenticity of the original report. That suspicion was quickly laid to rest by the receipt of several independent confirmations of the event — a screaming female being forced into a ground vehicle by two large males while a third was delicately grasping his groin does attract attention; the museum had expressed its concern and requested assistance for the girls.

The reports of the assault shuttle did lend credence to the location of the victims and the duty Superintendent decided to send an investigating team; she discounted the reports of armed marines and of course she was absolutely correct.

Constable Sorensen was on duty and heard of the incident. Ivy had one advantage the Superintendent didn't — she knew "Sundowner". Ivy reported proceeding to the scene and then disregarded further communications — or rather just didn't respond. (The duty operator mentally smirked at the Duty Supe's attempts to further engage Constable Sorensen in conversation — she personally wouldn't have wasted her time but the woman said "com her"... )

Ivy was at the front of the factory donning her armour as the investigating team pulled up. None of them batted an eye when Ivy began rattling off orders — she was her father's daughter. 'A team round the back; yes this is genuine I know these people; I'm going in.'

Police procedure is usually to indicate your presence and await the occupant's response. Time could be wasted during which bad things might happen. Constable Bill Sorensen had modified this to fit the circumstances and had often announced his arrival by kicking the door in — metaphorically speaking, ramming devices were used to stop ankles being fractured — and entering. Ivy had improved on this idea; she used powered armour to implode the door announcing she was a constable and making her request.

 
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