Vivian McAdams, commander of Theta 47, Commodore with an admiralty within reach, received the complaint from the launch port but didn't pay it too much attention. She had more to worry about than an unscheduled shuttle drop
Hovering beside Theta 47 the TSS Hammerhand looked menacing despite its comparatively small size. Theta 47 was twenty kilometers across and the ship less than two hundred meters, ringed living quarters unaccounted for. The circling torus was well over a kilometer in diameter, but most people measured the size of a ship in the length of the solid center carrying the engines. The Hammerhand was more of an armed transport than a fighting vessel.
She watched it on her screens. Both of its shuttle bays open and empty and she knew that within half an hour there would be more to complain about planet side. A different kind of complaint than those she had barely managed to keep to herself when a man from the past brought black memories to her a couple of hours earlier.
#
"I understand you don't follow normal procedures, Major, but our capacity is limited to one launch every twenty-four days and either you are going to be grounded here or some traders will be very unhappy if you force them to wait on Theta 47."
Heinrich Goldberger stared at the launch port commander but said nothing.
Guess you're not too happy having me here. Stay unhappy, fine! Just do as told!
A few hours earlier he'd had to face Commodore McAdams on Theta 47. A meeting he hadn't exactly looked forward to, not even with unease softened by the barrier of years passing since she'd been his only link with Earth. Now he had to deal with a clerk made officer, but at least this time there were no personal debts to be considered.
High above them a bright star grew in the daylight.
This is where even you are able to grasp things are changing.
"Another shuttle drop? Mercy of God, it's huge!" The shuttle seemed to discard parts of itself and soon eight large tubes gently drifted to the ground carried by large parachutes. "Drop tanks!"
"That'll be all for now. I want you to tow in the second shuttle and bring the tanks here. We'll need them if we are in a hurry launching."
"This is unheard of..."
"That will be all, I said." Heinrich left the commander and entered the terminal building he'd been part of constructing over ten long years ago. He was surprised he didn't feel more returning here. Maybe he was just too busy carrying out the orders he'd received from his old lieutenant, Rear Admiral Erwin Radovic now.
Erwin kept them alive when everyone else had died and if he sent an order, Heinrich wasn't going to question the reason behind it. He did, however, question every single detail concerning how it was supposed to be carried out, and he knew the admiral trusted him to do so. The two men had become friends on Otherworld. They had never ceased to be professionals. Now that was a difference from the average Terran Federation official. The idiots had been quick enough in sending down good soldiers to act as spies, and how well had that turned out? Not a sound from those poor souls, not a single one.
Heinrich shrugged the thought away. Now he had to instruct his men, and he turned to do so.
Hurry up and wait, boys. We do that a lot, but not for too long this time. Must have scared the honorary captain into some semblance of efficiency.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Within minutes their gear arrived and they climbed into exoskeleton body walkers and trampled outside.
Towering over three meters high each of them looked like a nightmare come alive, but to Heinrich's surprise the cavalry unit waiting at the arrival gate kept their discipline. He saw the red and black uniforms, and something stirred in his memory.
What happened here? This is not the Free Inquisition. What made them assign an elite unit to guard service? He swore silently.
A recorded message was all he had in terms of explanation to hardened soldiers. Now he desperately wanted a translator, but he had to wait for one until they arrived in Verd.
They had been isolated during the years he spent here earlier and never had the chance to learn the local language properly. Well, that couldn't be helped now. He punched a button on his holo viewer and placed it on the ground.
#
Kandaren de Has, captain in the Holy Inquisition, was not a brave man. Brave men tended to go from temerity to rashness with all too obvious results. While dead troops sometimes could defend a position, they never delivered timely information to other units depending on them. Calculating, stable husbands made out the core of Keen's finest. Adding a bit of imagination and a lot of caring to the equation and you had one of their officers.
Kandaren loved the men in his squadron like a father loved his sons, not that he was above scolding them when they made dangerous mistakes, quite the opposite. But he was adamant in his belief that members of an elite unit should be limited to receive verbal trashing if at all possible, and he didn't fancy the prospect of collective suicide.
He recognized the hard eyes peering out from the visored helmet facing him. He saw them every day in his mirror when he shaved. There were seven more of the armored men. All of them experienced professionals from the look of the crouching semicircle. All of them carrying smaller versions of the weapons mounted on the roof behind them.
Kandaren knew then that he would not give the orders to fire at the outworlders, not today. Horses whinnied and some started to back away and he barked an order to keep them in line. One of the strangers dropped a device well within range of the Staff master and a semitransparent representation of a man suddenly floated above it and started to talk in De Vhatic.
"We are here to bring back one of our own. These men have orders to destroy any forbidden equipment they carry and will do so unbidden before they depart. We wish you no ill. When we have found our man we will bring him here and none of these men will disturb you any longer." The figure disappeared.
One by one the two legged monsters arrived, ripped something from their helmets and crushed it in their mechanical gauntlets before dropping the remnants on the ground. The hard eyed commander faced Kandaren and said in broken De Vhatic, "No train use. We walk."
They all turned and Kandaren could only watch in amazement as they started striding away towards the ridge, each of their great suits whizzing with the sound of a beast from legend breathing angrily. After a short while they reached what seemed to be their marching pace keeping the speed of a horse in full gallop all the way until they disappeared behind the crest.