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Nellie and the Nanites - Bk3 - Ch.48
🕑 Added 2024-07-09 08:05:00 +0000 UTCChapter 48
Status Report
Cix-El waved to Robot as he walked over to join the shy man at the back of the crowded main thoroughfare. Everyone had gathered at the appointed time, and he watched as Salem rose on a small platform to overlook the crowd.
“Much is happening, friend Robot,” Cix-El said as he took a position next to him.
“I don’t think they are good things,” Robot replied. “I am worried.”
“There are good things and bad things, but there are always things,” Cix-El shrugged. “Worry changes nothing.”
“That makes no sense,” the girl said, appearing from a vent next to Robot.
“It does to me,” Cix-El bowed. “Nice to see you, nameless friend.”
“Names are things,” the girl stood on Robot’s other side. “Why have one?”
“Because they are pleasant,” Cix-el insisted. “I was proud to receive my name.”
“You would be,” the girl said mildly. “I would not.”
“It is starting,” Robot pointed as a large image of Salem appeared above the crowd.
“Thank you all for coming.” Salem’s voice was less clipped and precise these days, but it had lost none of the conviction. “As you know, we will shortly be attacked by a fleet of the Imperial Line. I am sure they intend to not only destroy our ships but also occupy the station. We do not intend for that to happen; however, we must be prepared. As such, a shelter facility is going to be built at a secondary site. A set of fabricators will be included, just in case. Should the worst happen, those inside will be able to rebuild and move on as they wish.”
Cix-El felt pride as everyone began to complain at once.
They would not abandon the Queens, no more than he would.
Still, it was nice that they were thinking of the people.
“I understand your feelings,” Salem continued over the complaints, “But this is an order from BOTH Nellie and Lucy.”
The crowd quieted.
“I expect everyone to follow the command, now, as to where we will take shelter…”
Cix-El tuned the rest of the speech out. He had no intention of abandoning the station, no matter who told him to go. Luckily, no one had told him to yet. Someone had to stay and keep everything running, after all.
“Do you think I might see the shelter before I go there?” Robot asked. “The idea of being sealed inside somewhere again is unpleasant.”
“We can go today,” the girl said.
“We can?” Robot asked.
“Just follow me; no one stops me from doing what I want.” she took Robot’s hand and let him through the crowd, which parted before her small form like a herd of animals parting around a predator.
“A scary child,” Cix-el said blandly. “I wonder what she is.”
A small ping on his HUD showed a breakdown in the vent system on the fifteenth level. A job needed doing.
“Goodbye, Friend Robot, Goodbye Nameless Girl!” He waved and headed for the nearest lift tube.
===<<<>>>===
“The drones recovered seven rifles, each with three charge packs, three sets of armor, and one personal shield,” Maxton reported as they examined the haul.
“What about the gear they were wearing?” Carter asked, “That should have been a full squad.”
“Some form of local plantlife was covering the bodies. It proved impossible for the drones to remove the gear.” Maxton grimaced. “I checked the recordings myself. It was unsettling.”
“I was hoping for six trained soldiers, not scraps,” Carter leaned back in his chair, rocking it on two legs as he stared at the ceiling.
“There is still me and my men,” Maxton reminded him, “With our full kit and the other two items in the shuttle.”
“Have we managed to remove them yet?” Carter asked.
“We?” Maxton smirked. “I haven’t seen you with a spanner recently.”
“Nor are you likely to,” Carter beamed, “I became a Manager for a reason.”
“We have one out,” Maxton glared. “The other will take a little longer.”
“Good; make sure they don’t get seen before the fighting starts.”
“Yes, Under Manager,” Maxton bowed.
Carter noticed the formal address and stood to see Duke standing outside the door. He moved pretty damn quietly for a big man.
“To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” Carter asked, waving him inside.
“I want to see the plans for the attack,” Duke said, sitting down. “You have taken control of it too much.”
“I understand completely.” Carter grinned. “In fact, why don’t we start to have regular planning sessions? You seem to know more about ground attacks than I do.”
“I have led men in combat before,” Duke said proudly. “I can be very helpful.”
“Excellent,” Carter beamed. “Maxton, make a note that command of the ground attack will be in the hands of Mister Duke here.”
“So noted,” Maxton nodded as she punched the info into her pad. “Here we go,” She held the pad out to Duke, showing a formal agreement for him to plan and command the ground war, with a special mention that he had requested such.
“Is this necessary?” Duke asked.
“The Imperial Line keeps excellent documentation,” Carter shrugged. “It will also document your direct involvement from before there was a fleet overhead.”
“Ah,” Duke nodded and thumbprinted the pad. “I understand.”
“Do you really think it necessary to send so many forces to the second colony?” Maxton asked Duke, “We need as many as possible to attack the Clutch settlement.”
“I understand that,” Duke nodded. “But I still think you are underestimating the defense that Crush and his people will mount.”
“We already have them outnumbered,” Maxton sighed. “And outgeared.”
“Hardly, with all of my best men attacking the Clutch.” Duke shook his head. “I want to keep as many people alive as possible. Overwhelming force is the best way to do that.”
Maxton and Carter exchanged a look.
“What?” Duke asked.
“Scans indicate they have been trading with the Clutchlings,” Carter said sadly. “I am afraid the Imperial Line will take a dim view of that.”
“They are still my people,” Duke glared at the pair, “No matter who they have been trading with.”
“Exactly the impression we DON’T want the fleet to get,” Carter countered. “A strong response from you will go a long way with them.”
“It is your people here that should concern you most. The loyal ones,” Maxton offered, not unkindly.
“You are suggesting I sacrifice them to save the main colony?” Duke growled.
“We are,” Carter sighed. “It will be better in the long run.”
Carter watched as Duke strode back and forth, face scrunched up in thought. It was a risk, asking him this. They both knew it.
“Very well,” Duke’s face set into a determined mask of stone. “For the good of this colony.”
“For the good of the colony,” Carter nodded, keeping his face grave.
“I will join you later at the ship,” Duke said, “I need time to think.”
“Of course,” Carter smiled sadly. “Such matters need time.”
After Duke left, Carter and Maxton waited five minutes before they both started laughing. It was amazing what you could talk people into with the right attitude; Carter had built his career on that fact.
Even so, this one was above and beyond, even by his standards.
Carter picked up the datapad and looked at the agreement Duke had signed. Three pages of dense legalese that boiled down to one thing.
“Anything and everything that goes wrong is officially my fault. Signed, the sacrificial lamb,” Carter shook his head again as he laughed.
“He even signed it before the fleet arrived, so he can’t claim to have been forced to take responsibility for the attack.” Maxton marveled. “Did you really think he would agree to the massacre of the other colony?”
“Honestly, yes,” Carter beamed. “I’d love to say I expect better of people, but I don’t. If you give them a choice of ‘us’ or ‘them,’ they fall over themselves to be first to the killing. Every. Damn. Time.”
“So, the arms locker on the ship?” Maxton checked. “I am cleared to give them the weapons?”
“Of course,” Carter nodded. “We want them to win, after all.”
“In a ground battle with the Clutch?” Maxton looked doubtful.
“Of course not,” Carter laughed. “But they will keep them locked down until the fleet can finish them off.”
“Understood,” Maxton stretched. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” Carter replied thoughtfully. “That pirate captain? Try to hint to her that she should take a few shots at the other colony on her way to attack the embassy.”
===<<<>>>===
Crush checked the servos on his shoulder joint one last time and then marched out to meet his troops.
What a shitshow this was, from start to finish. The group in front of him was not exactly who he would choose to fight with, but they were what he had. As his eyes roved over the twenty or so gathered in the small area they laughingly called a training ground, it was downright depressing.
Each one, to a man or woman, had turned up in the best combat gear they had.
“What is that?” Crush asked the third in line.
“A rifle, sir!” The man was practically vibrating with pride. “My own, sir!”
“Stow that ‘sir’ shit,” Cara snapped, “You call him boss.”
“Yes, Boss!” The man cried.
“Him, you call boss, not me!” Cara yelled at the man. She was turning out to be a natural-born drill sergeant.
“Boss-ette?” The man tried.
“Permission to kill the recruit, boss?” Cara growled.
“Denied,” Crush said, fighting to keep a straight face.
“A mild savaging, boss?” Cara pleaded.
“Denied,” Crush said, stepping away from the two before he could pack out laughing. That man would have a special kind of hell to deal with. Everyone loved a smart-ass, especially drill sergeants. It gave them someone to chew on when they were bored or angry.
The rifle had been a basic unit, a slug-thrower. It was as much use against power armor as a feather would be.
The urge to laugh passed quickly as he walked past one crappy weapon, one shitty bit of armor after another. If this was their fighting force, they would be dead before the second shots were fired.
“Well, thank you for coming,” Crush called once he arrived back in front of the group again. “I want you to know that I appreciate your volunteering for this mission to defend our neighbors. It is an important step forward, and I can see you have brought the best you could.”
Smiling, proud faces on every member of the group.
“Now that is out of the way, allow me to be honest. Honesty amongst soldiers is important. That is the first lesson. Are you all prepared for me to be honest?”
Earnest looks and a little shuffling before a round of nods.
“Great!” Crush clapped his hands together. “Let’s start with what you will be facing. A battle is not brave, honorable, or glorious, so get rid of those fairy tales right fucking now. It is brutal, ugly, and nasty. Some of you are going to die, some of you are going to get hurt so bad the pain will make you wish you died. If you can’t face that possibility, please leave now. No one will think less of you. I will not think less of you. It is the smart choice to make.”
“We’re with you, Marshall!” The eager young man yelled. “I’ll introduce them to ol’ kicker, here!” He shook the rifle over his head, grinning like a maniac. Several of the other recruits joined him in the cheer.
“Is that a fact?” Crush grinned at the man.
“Yes, boss!” He yelled.
“Let’s see how that will go, shall we?” Crush asked.
“What?” The smile faded a little.
“Cara, want to do the honors?” Crush asked.
“Are you kidding?” Cara laughed. “I’ve wanted to do this since the second day of training.”
Cara stepped up to the recruit, grabbed the rifle from his hands, checked the scope, magazine, and safety, and dropped into the firing crouch Crush had taught her.
“Wait!” The recruit yelled as Cara emptied the magazine into Crush’s chest plate as he walked calmly toward them.
The bullets struck one after another before falling to the floor, not even leaving a dent. The last shot was at point-blank range.
“Did you feel anything?” Cara asked. “A little tenderness, a small bruise forming?”
“No,” Crush grinned widely. “Not a thing. Better luck next time.”
Cara swore bitterly before chucking the rifle back to its owner. Crush picked the spent rounds from the floor as he walked back to his spot. Once he got there, he tossed the squashed metal from hand to hand as he spoke, watching their eyes glued to the action.
“Your gear is useless. It just is. The armor is good for one shot, maybe two. The weapons might kill an animal but won’t even slow down anyone in real armor. In power armor. If this was what you were going to fight with, I’d send you home now.”
He let out a whistle, and Bil-Tor came around the corner, pulling a set of long black crates piled on an anti-grav sled.
“Luckily, our friends in the N.S.S. have supplied us with better options. Fall out and go see Bil and Andy, and they will fit you with a set of power armor. Do not run; do not rush. You need to be comfortable. Don’t come back until you are confident with the armor. Move!”
Crush watched them line back up, nudging each other and preening. Nellie’s people had done a good job. Black armor with an orange stripe across the chest. Strong servos, thick plates, and internal shielding. A silver star on the left shoulder pad gleamed in the morning light.
The helms, once locked in place, showed a plain black faceplate. It looked intimidating if you didn’t know the people inside were a bunch of untrained idiots.
He never should have put combat training off for so long.
Still, he knew that their enemies would be pretty lightly armed and armored outside of Brenda's crew, which should give them the advantage.
“Welcome back,” Crush called, getting their attention off their new gear. “You are about halfway to dangerous, so let’s see if we can get you the rest of the way there.”
He flipped the top off the last crate, revealing rows of rifles packed in foam. Pulling one out, he had to admit they looked the part. Smooth enamel and rubber covered the metal parts, allowing you to hold the weapon snugly even when it got hot. A switch on one side allowed you to change the firing mode if you lacked implants, which everyone here did. Simple, reliable, and adaptable, a good soldier’s weapon.
“This is a real weapon,” Crush called as he held it up for them to see. “It is not for hunting. It is not for defense. It was designed for one reason. To kill. Now, this is very likely stronger than the weapons we will face, but it will do for the purposes of a demonstration.”
Crush tossed the rifle to Cara, who charged it and aimed across the square to where Bil-Tor was holding up a piece of armor taken from the recruits. Crush was unsurprised to see it was the chest plate their over-eager recruit had worn.
“Fire!” Crush called.
A line of light seared from the rifle, hitting the armor. Less than a second later, it cut out.
Crush didn’t even need to look; the gasps from the recruits were more than enough proof of his point.
“For the next week, we will drill here. All day, every day. I can’t make you soldiers in that time, but I can make you something.” Crush said as they all stood at various versions of ‘attention.’
“Dangerous?” It seemed that the eager smart-ass was a slow learner.
“You’re already dangerous,” Crush replied. “To yourselves, to each other, to anything near you,” he let the laughter roll, “In a week, I will focus that danger so you can point it at the enemy. Cara, take ‘em for a run.”
Crush watched as they were yelled into line, yelled into motion, and yelled out the gate. It was going to be a long week.
===<<<>>>===
Lucy split her attention between her body, standing at the control console, the swarm coring the enter of the cruiser so she could mount the new beam weapon and the external cameras where she was reshaping the armor plates.
“Sector six, move fifteen degrees astern before mounting the array. Sector one, clear the gun port before moving the new plates into place.” Lucy scanned the interior, noting the teams working in each compartment and assigning a completion percentage to each one. “Team five, you need to pick up the pace. Teams one and three are going to bottleneck if they have to wait for you.”
Stats and percentages popped up in her vision as the conversion continued.
“Initial link,” Lucy activated the transfer protocols. “Override safeties and remove backup copies.”
“Operational systems will be compromised if the control system is removed.” The computer’s voice was set to a husky tone that set her teeth on edge. Why did people have to do that? Wouldn’t you want something that sounded competent rather than attractive?
“New control systems are being installed,” Lucy replied.
“That is not allowed under terms of the Imperial—”
“Enough,” Lucy pushed a bit of herself into the computer and smothered the laughable attempt at resistance.
“Proceeding with the upgrade,” The voice had changed to a neutral tone as she erased the saved preferences and overwrote them.
Better.
“Salem to Lucy,” Salem’s voice was tense as she called in.
“Lucy here, go ahead,” Lucy replied.
“I just received work orders significantly shortening the timeline. I thought we had two weeks?” Salem inquired.
“We do, but I want a week of practice maneuvers before we get into combat,” Lucy replied. “Is this a problem?”
“Not at all,” Salem replied. “I just wanted to check that we had not received new reports.”
“How are the plans for the evacuation going?” Lucy asked, splitting off another thread of processing power to manage the alignment of the new portside laser arrays.
“We have everything arranged,” Salem responded. “We will retain about twenty percent of staff; the rest will be transferred to the second site.”
“We should run tests a few days before, just in case,” Lucy warned.
“I plan to,” Salem promised. “I have a full test, with the entire staff in place, about three days before we expect the fleet to arrive.”
“Too close,” Lucy said, her fingers flying over the board as she customized the programming for the new weapons. “Make it sooner, just in case. We need time to fix anything that breaks.”
“Understood,” Salem sighed. “I’ll do the best I can, but it might be difficult to move it more than a day earlier.”
“Whatever you can do, Salem,” Lucy nodded absently as the programming took over. “I need to go. I’m about to install the nano-forge on this cruiser.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” Salem closed the comm line.
The nanite forge started to light up, and the pipes that would carry the nanites into the body of the ship began to fill with a silver liquid. As the minutes ticked by, the forge became self-sustaining.
“Prepare for power,” Lucy warned and checked the internal feeds to ensure everyone had stepped back.
Critical mass was reached as the internal nanite levels hit optimum levels. Power generated by the forge rushed through the ship, and several lights blew out. Other than that, everything held.
“Replace the lights in corridors two and four,” Lucy called. “Check internal seals for damage and prepare to initiate the other forge. Seven shifts from now… Mark.”
The forges would significantly boost the cruiser's power, allowing the XL Beam cannon to fire once it was completed and the secondary layer of shields to function. If they got the entire set of arrays online, it would boost the power of the cruiser to levels almost equal to the Bly’s Revenge.
Almost.
There was just no way to rig the cruiser to match the custom-built efficiency of the Bly.
“Lucy to Vey,” Lucy called as she made her way through the wide gangways of the cruiser. It was too inefficient for her liking. Too many compromises to allow for extra comforts. There were only half as many safety hatches as there should be on a combat vessel.
“Vey here,” Vey called back.
“I will be coming aboard your ship soon, Captain,” Lucy said, ducking into a side compartment. “I intend to install a nanite forge in it tomorrow.”
“Uh, Yes, Ma’am,” Vey replied. “Was its performance unsatisfactory?”
“You did excellently, Captain,” Lucy replied proudly. “Which is why you deserve to have more power at your command.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Vey still sounded uncertain.
“This is a good thing, Vey,” Lucy chuckled. “We are proud of you.”
“Th-Thank you, Ma’am.”
Lucy stepped out of the compartment and got back to work.
There was a lot to do.
