Deterrence expedition le.., p.19
Deterrence Expedition : Legacy Earth 3, page 19
Lance raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side to drive his point home. Hal remained defiantly silent.
“It’d be an awful shame because I guarantee you we wouldn’t have the warm mugs of heaven that we do known as coffee,” he added before heading to the door. “And we’re military; if there’s one thing you can’t argue on, it’s coffee.”
The door slid open. Lance stepped into the hallway and it slid shut behind him. Valdivia kept her distance. Her head was lowered as she turned her body slightly away from him. The observatory door hissed open, but a soft whisper from Michael prevented Admiral Cortez from leaving.
“I owe you an apology,” Lance said as nerves caused him to chew on the inside of his cheek. “I should never have suggested that you go in there. I was thinking rashly, desperate for answers, and in doing so, exploited your abilities to stoop to his level.”
“When did you suggest I go in there?” she asked, curiosity dancing with her words.
“A few hours ago,” Lance replied.
“I’ve been in there for almost two days,” she said, still keeping her distance.
Lance felt an ocean of guilt slosh through him as it pulsed from her like a half-filled fifty-gallon barrel.
“The last time I saw you, I said some things…” she started.
“You were scared.” Lance cut her off; she didn’t owe him an apology. “You have nothing to apologize for. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you… are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered as she played with the chipping paint on her gloves, revealing a matte black underneath. “I-I saw what you did for me. I’m sorry you were injured.”
“Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing,” Lance said as he felt his cheeks grow warm. “Not that I see myself as a good man… or even a decent…”
Val dashed at him. She wrapped her arms around him, giving him a gentle, yet firm hug. His entire torso flared with pain from the pressure of her embrace. He gritted his teeth before hesitantly wrapping his arms around her as well.
“I’m glad you survived,” she confessed.
“So am I,” Lance replied. “I could do without the soreness, though.”
She quickly released him and stepped back, placing her hands where her mouth would be, if not for her helmet.
“By the goddess, I’m so sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asked before stepping back toward him, hesitating then stepping away again.
“I’m fine,” Lance replied. “I’ve had a lot worse than your hugs.”
“Like reading John Stuart Mill?” Michael asked as he and Admiral Cortez emerged from the observation room.
“You can’t tell me to read more than complain when I read a single book,” Lance countered as he turned to his team mate. “Or is it that you want me to read only your books?”
“I mean, I do have the best collection,” Michael scoffed, his voice brimming with pride.
“What all did we get?” Lance asked, turning his attention to Cortez.
“Everything,” she replied. “The name and rank of every Veles sleeper in our ships. The list has already been sent to Admiral Huckstable to check against his list. Fortunately, it’s not as bad as we thought.”
“Any chance he could be lying?” Lance asked as he shifted his weight to alleviate the throbbing pain in his side.
“No, I would’ve given up every secret I know if she were interrogating me,” Cortez replied.
“I promise I won’t,” Valdivia chimed in. “I prefer to uncover the secrets of the long since gone.”
“And I appreciate that Valdivia,” Admiral Cortez said before turning her attention back to Lance. “Now, do you mind telling me why you’re not on bedrest?”
“Because if I were, then we wouldn’t know the identity of the Galio leader,” Lance countered. “Or the fact that he’s acting against orders from his commander.”
“I don’t think you give our analysts enough credit,” Admiral Cortez said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“They would’ve undoubtedly cracked it, I’ll give you that,” Lance said with a nod. “But we’re on the clock here and now we’ve got some actionable intelligence that could prevent a true all-out war with the Galio, and not just a fraction of them. By the way, have you seen those numbers?”
“I have,” Cortez replied with a nod. “And if we play it smart, we can put an end to this whole thing without going head to head with them.”
“Very wise move,” Valdivia said. “The Galio are ruthlessly efficient in battle. They have a tendency to swarm a target until there’s nothing left and then continue to the next target. It’s like a wave crashing on the shore to watch them work.”
“If you know anything about their tactics and how they could plan on attacking us, now’s the time to share that information,” Cortez said as she raised an eyebrow to the Jarog.
“I was a civilian on a military ship,” Valdivia replied with a nervous chuckle and a shake of her head. “I only know what I was able to see firsthand. Just like I am here. I’ll give you what I can, but I can’t promise it’ll do much good.”
“Every bit of information will be useful,” Cortez said as she approached Valdivia. “I’ll grab you a coffee and we can talk some more.”
“Coffee?” Valdivia asked.
“Are you sure her species can handle it?” Lance asked.
“I had the labs run a full diagnostic of the tissue samples Valdivia provided for us,” Cortez said while turning back to the first lieutenant and gently resting her hands together in front of her. “Her species can handle caffeine with no ill effects, and even in her condition, she can handle the beverage as well… We’ll just have to make sure it’s iced and with a straw so you don’t have to take off your helmet.”
“Thank you,” Valdivia replied with a grateful nod. “I would like to experience more of your food and culture. I hear coffee is a key component to it.”
“Then by all means, enjoy!” Lance said, cracking a smile as he motioned toward the elevators.
“Wait, what about Hal?” Michael asked. “We can’t just leave him unattended in there.”
“He can’t get out,” Cortez replied as she led Valdivia toward the elevators. “Admiral Huckstable will be sending an escort that has been cleared to take him back to the brig.”
Both women made it to the sliding doors and disappeared behind them as they spoke. Michael looked Lance up and down and shook his head.
“You look like absolute crap,” he said.
“That may be true, but I still look better than you,” Lance joked as he put his weight onto the wall.
“No, come on, grab on to me,” Michael said as he offered Lance an arm. “I’ll help you, we’ll get you back into your armor, and that’ll hold you together until you’re all better.”
“Yeah, where is that pile of scrap?” Lance asked as he leaned against Michael and both men headed toward the elevators as well.
“It’s been deconstructed layer by layer,” Michael explained. “We’ve found some ways to potentially enhance it to stand up better against heavy fire. Something about adding titanium between the graphene layers.”
“Any news on that knife?” Lance asked as he rotated his shoulder some. “That thing sliced through all my protection like it wasn’t even there.”
“Oh yeah, THAT,” Michael scoffed. “It’s some sort of diamond-edged nano-tube composite, unlike our labs have ever seen before. They wanted to reverse engineer it, but it would’ve destroyed the blade and only had a thirty percent chance of working.”
“So are we sending it back to Earth for analysis?” Lance asked as they called, then stepped into the next elevator.
“Absolutely we aren’t!” Michael replied as he pressed the button for the armory. “If it’s Veles technology, then we’ll be coming by a lot more in the near future. In the meantime, you killed its owner. In some ancient human cultures, that means the blade is yours now. I had a sheath designed into your new set of armor to hold it for you.”
“How kind of you,” Lance mused as the itching of his healing wounds crossed the threshold to burning.
Twenty-Six
Retrieval
Both men arrived at the armory and headed toward the S4 work station. As they moved through, Lance looked around and noticed a decent portion of the workers were gone. Concern draped over the faces of those who remained as they repaired, cleared, and assembled weapons and armor.
Arriving at the section of the armory designated specifically for their sub-branch, Lance looked around. None of the armorists were missing and several of them worked on the finer points of what the first lieutenant assumed was his new armor.
Sparks flew as the pungent smell of solder filled Lance’s nostrils. He watched as one of the armorists moved toward the suit with a cylinder of what looked like grey liquid. Curiosity filled the first lieutenant as he leaned against the counter. He’d never seen nano-bots that weren’t already integrated into a technology before.
Awe and curiosity filled him as he observed the liquid. The vial was attached to a port on the hip of the armor. With a twist of his wrist, the technician locked the cylinder in place. The technician pressed a button on the side, Lance watched as the microscopic bots drained into the suit before spreading over the joints and gaps in the armor, connecting them all.
The nano-bots turned from grey to black to match the armor before they retracted back into the hip portion of the suit. Lance couldn’t help but crack a smile. He’d had a passing curiosity about nanotechnology, but seeing it in action stoked the fires a little bit.
“Is his suit done yet?” Michael asked.
“We’re just wrapping up,” another technician said as she put down her tools. “We got lucky; no one from our team was found wearing that mark on their neck. Otherwise, no way we would’ve been able to get it done.”
“Well, your hard work is very much appreciated,” Lance said as he eyed his armor.
It looked nearly identical to his previous suit, only slightly thicker. When the light hit it at certain angles, he swore he could see an S4 blue pattern painted into the matte black suit.
“As it should be,” the first armorist replied. “Those suits are hard enough to repair, let alone build back up from scratch. Not to mention, do you have any idea how nearly impossible it is to fabricate a new non-Newtonian under suit without a proper lab?”
“He’s being dramatic,” the female technician chimed in. “It was tricky, but it’s nothing we couldn’t handle. We even made a few upgrades to the under suit, so if it does get ripped or punctured or torn, it can actually repair itself to a limited capacity.”
She walked over to a table on the far end of their workshop. Lance couldn’t help but notice how every tool and piece of equipment had a place and none of them were outside of their designated area. The young woman grabbed a black eighteen-inch by eighteen-inch square with both hands and walked it over to them.
“Here is your under suit,” she said as she set it down. “It’s a little on the slippery side, but once you put it on, your body heat will help it solidify.”
“Also, the longer you wear it, the more stable it becomes, so I’d suggest not taking it off for a few days so it doesn’t turn into a puddle,” the other armorist added.
“He’s not being dramatic on that part,” the first continued. “We also confiscated the weapons of Hal’s team and did some digging. They were heavily reinforced in order to shoot something as heavy as those tungsten rounds without completely falling apart or blowing up in their hands.”
“Are you reverse engineering them?” Lance asked as he grabbed his undersuit.
It was tacky and slowly stretched as he pulled on it, almost as if they’d found a way to give oil the consistency of chewing gum. He let go of the under armor, letting it fall back to the table.
“We’re working on getting the technology compatible with pistols and sniper rifles, but we’re doubting it’ll work with shotguns just from a recoil standpoint,” she replied before they started packing his armor up into a transport box. “There’s more than enough for your team with some left over for us to continue to reverse engineer. I’ve put in a request to arm you guys with them.”
“We appreciate that,” Michael said. “With the Galio having unknown armor, anything that can pack a little bit extra of a punch will give us an edge.”
The technicians all lifted the box that held Lance’s armor. They groaned under the strain before setting it down on the counter in front of both men. The first lieutenant looked at his engineer and raised an eyebrow. He then nodded to the container.
“Seriously?” Michael asked.
“I have a stab wound and two bullet holes in me,” Lance said. “I pick that up, I may pop my stem cells.”
“We both know that’s not how this works,” Michael said as he grabbed the box and lifted it with one hand, no problem. “We both know you’re just lazy.”
“Eh, you say potato, I say regrowing part of my kidney and lung,” Lance countered with a shrug as he picked up his under armor before looking at the armorists. “Thank you for your loyalty to the alliance and for rebuilding my gear.”
“It’s our pleasure,” the female technician said with a smile. “Anytime you need us, we’ll be right here.”
Both men exited the armory and headed back to their barracks. Standing in the elevator, Lance kept having to adjust his grip on the black suit as it continuously tried to ooze to the ground.
“I’m hoping that thing doesn’t drop a piece of Carnage anywhere,” Michael said as he watched Lance struggle with it.
“Carnage?” Lance asked, confused.
Michael let out a defeated sigh and shook his head.
“I’m sending you some viewing material while you continue to heal,” Michael said as the doors opened. “And next time I see you, I want to hear some kind of reference to let me know you actually consumed the content.”
“I mean, I don’t know how good light would taste, or if I could even taste it,” Lance said with a shrug as he stepped out of the elevator, giving his friend a sly smile.
“That’s not what I meant by con…. Oh, you just think you’re SO funny, don’t you?” Michael asked rhetorically as he exited the elevator and jogged to catch up.
“I’m freaking hilarious!” Lance replied.
“You can go ahead and keep telling yourself that, buddy,” Michael countered as he reached Lance’s side.
“Oh come on, I’m good for a laugh,” Lance argued in a complaining tone.
“Good for killing a laugh maybe,” Michael said as he stifled a laugh.
“My goodness, you’re a savage,” Lance replied with a chuckle as they approached the officers and S4 quarters.
“When you’re the youngest of five, you have to be,” Michael said with a shrug as he patted Lance on the back.
A pulse of electric pain shot through the first lieutenant’s upper body. It twisted and knotted, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Lance stopped in his tracks, winced and let out a groan as his hands started to involuntarily tremble. Michael’s eyes widened in terror.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. It totally slipped my mind!” Michael whispered as he took a step away from Lance.
“Nope! No you’re good,” Lance replied, his voice strained as he tried to suppress the pain that radiated throughout the right side of his body. “How about you just open my quarters and put the armor inside and we’ll call it even.”
“Of course, yes, sir!” Michael said as he rushed around the corner, opened the door, and placed the case just inside the door. “I’ll leave you be and I’ll send you that material!”
“Please do,” Lance said, sarcasm seeping into his tone.
The first lieutenant made his way into his room as Michael gradually backed away. Lance closed the door behind him to see Justin still asleep on the top bunk. Approaching his bed, he placed the under armor on his mattress.
Pain continued to radiate through his side and arm. Lance’s hands continued to tremble as he removed his shirt. His wounds were bright red. They were slightly inflamed. He wasn’t sure if it was from the pat on the back or his body healing.
Lance grabbed his medical kit, taking two more shots out. He injected himself directly in the center of each patched bullet wound. To his surprise, he hardly felt the shot this time. Returning the syringes back into the medical pack, he continued to strip down, doing everything he could to stay standing as upright as possible.
He gently unfolded the tacky armor. Unlike his previous suit, there wasn’t a zipper on the back. It was one solid piece with only a hole for his head, hands, and feet. Lance placed it on the ground and stretched the neck out as wide as he could. Stepping into the neck, he grimaced as his side ached from bending his torso.
Lance sat down on his bed and pulled at the legs of the suit. It was like trying to grab a running cat. The second he thought he was making headway, it’d slip through his fingers. Flopping back on the bed, he continued to struggle with getting his feet to the bottom of the legs. With a frustrated grunt, he lifted his legs off the ground and held that straight up in the air.
“Um, do you mind telling me what you’re doing?” Justin asked, his voice groggy from sleep as he poked his head over the side of the bed.
“If we’re both being honest here,” Lance said as he looked at his friend. “This isn’t the weirdest thing you’ve caught me doing.”
“Depends on who you ask,” Justin said with a shrug. “But that didn’t answer my question.”
“The armory made me a new under suit that apparently can self-repair to an extent,” Lance explained with an annoyed sigh as the suit oozed down his legs, revealing his toes through the holes at the bottom. “The problem is it’s pretty much an oozing mess until you put it on and it has a chance to form and mold itself to your body. I’m guessing it has something to do with being activated by heat as well.”
