T'aafhal Legacy 1: Ghosts of Orion (8 page)

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Huh?” the smaller female exclaimed, turning to face him.

“I said, who are you?” Umky repeated.

“I'm Ahnah. And who the hell are you?”

“I'm Umky, I just signed on for the voyage. Why are you here?”

“I'm going on the voyage as well. You're crew?”

“Sensor operator and combat ops if needed. You?”

“I'm on the science staff,” the she-bear replied with just a hint of superiority in her voice.

“Really? Are the humans going to study you during the trip or something?”

Ahnah's eyes narrowed and her ears flattened. In a not so friendly tone of voice she replied, “I'll have you know I have a PhD specializing in developmental biology and chemical ecology.”

“Whoa,” Umky said, “Didn't mean to raise your hackles, sweetheart.”

This reply antagonized the ursine scientist even more. “Listen, you stupid bruin, don't get any amorous ideas about this trip or I will remove your hairy testicles and feed them to you. Understand?”

Damn it all!
Though Umky,
I signed on for this trip to get away from uppity females, now it looks like I'm bunking with one.
“Look Ahnah, I've got no desire to take a tumble with you. I signed up to get away from romantic entanglements, not for a shipboard romance with a she-bear I've never met. Can we call a truce? I have equipment I need to check out in the Armory.”

Ahnah snorted. “You've got the left side of the habitat.”

“Port side,” Umky replied, “on a ship it's the port side, not left side.”

“Whatever. Try to stay on your side in the future.” Ahnah pointedly turned her back on the exasperated male and took two bounds, landing in the pool. This effectively ended the conversation. 

Well, talk about getting off on the wrong paw,
Umky thought to himself as he went back into the passageway and headed forward toward the Armory
. No, that didn't go well at all...
 

Main Lounge, Peggy Sue

Rosey finished her interview with the Captain and was headed aft. Her intended path took her through the ship's main lounge and down the companionway at its rear. This would take her to the lower deck and the crew's quarters. Ahead, she spied the ship's First Officer leaning against the lounge's curving mahogany bar, viewing a data tablet.

“Good afternoon, Ma'am,” the ex-Marine said. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Acuna,” the officer replied. “I take it from your smile that things went well with the Captain?”

“Yes, Ma'am, he said I was welcome to join the crew for the next voyage.”

“Good,” said Beth, wrestling with a decision in her mind.

Well, nothing for it,
she thought. Decision reached, she straightened up and laid the tablet on top of the bar. “You know, Ms. Acuna, I talked with Gen. Rodriguez about you.” 

Rosey swallowed and said, “Yes, Ma'am?”

“The Corps Commandant said she remembered you from the Peggy Sue's second voyage,” Beth continued in a neutral tone, “that you were a good Marine; steady under fire. She also said you were well liked by your squad mates and members of the crew.” 

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“I also know why you ended up on the Corps' shit list.”

Not knowing what to say, Rosey came to attention—back straight, eyes focused at a spot six inches above the officer's head.

“I am also sure that my husband, the Captain, was too much a gentleman to mention this.” Beth paused to let that sink in. “What's past is past, and I have no interest in those events, Ms. Acuna. What I am concerned with is the morale of the crew and the smooth operation of this ship.”

A pause followed by silence.

“Any action, any activity that sows discord among the crew or interferes with the safety and operation of the Peggy Sue will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“Very well,” the First Officer said, closing the subject. “In any case, welcome aboard—it's good to know we have people who have been there before. You can carry on.”

“Aye, aye, Ma'am,” the ex-Marine acknowledged, then she turned smartly and resumed her journey aft.

Well that was rather unpleasant,
Beth said to herself.
I had forgotten what a thankless job being XO really is. Still, best to make sure everyone understands the ground rules before the ship gets underway.
 

Cargo Hold, Peggy Sue

Jacobs and Hitch were in the armory, adjoining the aft end of the main cargo hold, checking out their suits of heavy space armor. The suits were identical to the ones they had worn on the trek across the Ring Station, meaning they were more advanced than the ones used by the Fleet Marines.

“I tell you these are the same suits, Matt,” said Hitch.

“I can't argue with that, Stevie, this suit fits me like a glove.”

“Yeah, even with all the weight you gained on those freighter runs.”

“Very funny.”

“If you primates are done clowning around, how about breaking out my suit,” a new, deep voice rumbled. The two humans turned to find themselves facing a full grown male polar bear.

“Lt. Bear?” asked Hitch.

“No way, Stevie,” his friend replied, “Bear shipped out with Captain Jack a couple of years back.”

“Well he sure looks like the LT.”

“Did you ever think of just asking me who I am?” the bear asked.

“You have to be Umky,” Jacobs replied, ignoring the bear's suggestion. “The Chief said you had signed on for the voyage.”

“You sure are the spitting image of your daddy,” Hitch commented.

“And now you know why I am trying to get off this rock,” replied Umky. “He's been gone over two years and I am still living in his shadow.” 

“Major bummer, Nanook,” said Hitch.

“Umky. My name is Umky.”

“I thought that Nanook just meant 'bear'?”

“It does, Umky means bear too.”

“Wow, great nickname: Bear 2.”

“Just forget it,” said the annoyed Umky. “How about helping me find my suit? There is supposed to be armor for a full sized male bear stowed here somewhere.”

“Yeah sure, just give us a second to get out of our armor and we'll help you look,” said Jacobs. “Good to have you aboard, Bear 2.”

* * * * *

The Chief was standing where he had been for most of the past several days, just inside the forward cargo door on the port side. His inventory was almost complete and only a few of the crew had not yet reported, science section types mostly. The sound of footsteps on the cargo ramp caused him to look up. There coming up the ramp was half a squad of Marines.

“We're looking for an AWOL Marine, Pops,” said the sergeant leading the detachment of four. The Chief bristled.

“Stop right there, you ignorant jar head!”

“Hey, don't get your knickers in a twist, Pops. We need to search your ship for the AWOL Marine, so stand aside.”

The Chief spoke into his comm pip in a lowered voice: “Hitch, Jacobs, get yer asses forward, we got a Marine infestation.”

Then, placing his hands on his hips, the Chief look the Marine sergeant in the eyes and said, “you listen to me you snot nosed, scupper turd, yous ain't setting a foot on the Peggy Sue...”

* * * * *

“What the hell is that all about?” asked Hitch, having received the Chief's somewhat cryptic message. 

“I think the Chief is in trouble,” said Jacobs, “look at the monitor from the port side cargo door.”

“Looks like a squad of Gyrenes trying to come aboard.”

“Maybe we should go forward and see what they want,” said Umky, standing up in his suit of heavy space armor.

“Good idea, Bear 2,” Hitch said, climbing back into his suit of armor. “Come on Matt, shake a leg, we got some jar heads to mess with.”

 * * * * * 

The sergeant in charge of the shore patrol detachment had had about enough of the unpleasant little sailor who barred their way. He had his orders and no damned civilian swabby was going to stop him from searching this ship, yet there the diminutive sailor stood at the top of the ramp. 

“Listen to me, you little runt. We are going to board your ship and search for the missing Marine, you get me you sawed off asshole?”

The Chief crossed his arms, squinting hard at the Marines. Behind him, footsteps could be heard coming from the hold—heavy footsteps. From the shadows emerged two seven foot gray black monsters which took up positions on either side of the diminutive Chief. Then a third armored figure appeared, this one twelve feet tall. The Marines' eyes went wide.

“Oh good!” said the armored bear in the middle. “I love snack food in green wrappers!”

The Marines backed down the ramp, eyes fixed on the three armored figures behind the little sailor. None were even tempted to draw one of the stunners they carried on their belts—they knew what men, and bears, in powered armor could do.

“You'll regret this, asshole!” the sergeant shouted as their retreat turned into a route.

“That's Master Chief Asshole, dickhead!” Chief Zackly shouted in reply, happily waving at the departing Marines. “These fuckin' new Marines can't find their asses with both hands in the shower, not without an officer tellin' 'em which end is which.” 

Chapter 5

Jimmy's Apartment, Farside

The day after being brought to the ship, Jimmy Tosh was visited in sickbay by Captain Vincent. After talking with the prospective new cook, Billy Ray decided that Jimmy could join the crew. Jimmy seemed a good man, in spite of his vices, and the Captain had a soft spot for Jesse. He didn't want to disappoint the Jamaican bar keeper. 

Since the mobsters were undoubtedly still looking for him, it was decided that Jimmy should not leave the safety of the ship to fetch his belongings. Instead, Mizuki and Bobby volunteered to gather his personal effects from his apartment and bring them back to the Peggy Sue. The couple from the ship were accompanied by Mizuki's flock of butterflies, causing a number of passersby to gawk. 

“At least we got new uniforms,” Bobby commented.

“Yes, they are very stylish, much nicer that the old jumpsuits.”

Their outfits were quite attractive, having a two toned color scheme that was mostly black with a departmental color designation on the upper part. Mizuki's was black and burgundy and Bobby's black and dark blue.

“Yeah, except I sort of feel like we're Star Trek TNG wannabees, attending a convention.”

“There is just no pleasing you sometimes, Bobby.” 

 In all, it was a ten minute walk from the docks to Jimmy's apartment. Arriving without incident, they soon had Jimmy's worldly belongings stuffed into a duffel bag and were ready to head back.

“I think that's about it,” said Bobby, looking around the small apartment one last time. “Hardly worth the trip.” 

“Yes, I think we've gotten everything, excluding the recreational drugs,” Mizuki replied. “At least we took the
aoi chō
for one last walk before confining them to the ship for many months.” 

“As long as they're around you they are happy, sweetheart.”
About the only thing I have in common with the flying circus.
 

The couple stepped outside of the apartment and closed the door. As the door slid shut, two burly men confronted them.

“Where is the black boy?” demanded the one on the left, closest to Bobby. “He owes us money.”

Bobby and Mizuki were not an imposing couple. Mizuki, though tall for a Japanese woman, was not all that large and Bobby was not much taller than she. At one time Bobby had been a pudgy couch potato and not much for physical conflict. That was before they both spent a year in the company of a group of Marines and SEALS, fighting aliens and being fine tuned by the M'tak Ka'fek's AI. That meddlesome sentient computer viewed its crew as biological systems whose performance needed to be optimized. As a result, both Bobby and Mizuki were strong, well trained in the martial arts, and startlingly quick. 

“We have no business with you,” said Bobby, as he and Mizuki moved apart slightly. “Stand aside and there will be no trouble.”

“I think you already have trouble,” said the thug on the right, reaching behind his back. Mizuki's butterflies formed a swirling red and yellow cloud above her head. 

The thug nearest Bobby lunged at him, throwing a roundhouse right. At the same time, the thug nearest Mizuki produced a knife from behind his back and stepped toward her.

Bobby seized his assailant's arm, pivoted and used the man's momentum to execute a hip throw. The man landed heavily on his back, his head striking the floor and rebounding. His face was traveling upward from the rebound when it met Bobby's fist descending in a straight armed strike. Bone and cartilage crunched audibly. 

Meanwhile, Mizuki reached over her head and drew the bokken she always carried when roaming outside the ship. The heavy wooden stick had the same weight and balance as a katana, the traditional long sword carried by samurai. The wooden practice sword was a blur as she first broke her attacker's wrist and then struck the side of his head. The knife clattered to the floor as the second thug dropped like a felled ox. 

Mizuki and Bobby stepped clear of their fallen foes only to see a third Ukrainian holding what looked like a pistol. They jumped in opposite directions, forcing the man to chose between targets. Mizuki ended her roll to the right in a crouch with her weapon held before her, ready to strike. Bobby came up low with a small stunner in his hand. Before either could take out the gun wielding thug he was enveloped by a flock of angry butterflies, flashing reds, oranges and yellows.

The man with the gun cried out as sparks flew from the winged creatures alighting on his person. He crumpled as the smell of ozone and cooked meat permeated the area. The butterflies circled above their victim showing more placid colors. No additional targets appeared.

“I think your pets cooked that guy, Mizuki-chan.” 

Bobby moved forward and examined the third gangster's dropped weapon. Nudging the pistol with his foot, he grunted.