Blind into the Breach (The Hunter Imperium Book 4), page 10
"Let's put it this way. You were never in any danger of being overrun, and they would have joined in had you needed it. You didn't need them."
"And they needed to know that?"
"Yes. Call it on the job training."
She could see I was still bothered, but said no more.
"The main guns?"
"Are adjustable. Same as fighter guns. You might have thought they'd never hit the ground, but I set them to a short distance, and aligned them slightly down. So they weren't firing straight, but towards the middle of the plant column."
"Ah. I'll remember that one."
Food arrived, and I shut up to eat. Fearless was docked again on Orion's Belt just after I finished, and the ping came in immediately from the CAG, ordering me to the main pilot's mess.
After an earful of loud marines, the last thing I needed was an even bigger earful of louder pilots. But the CAG cannot be denied. The travel car deposited me somewhere in the middle of the ship, and I stepped into a mess large enough to fit everyone on the ship if need be. Even with all the pilots in it, a large part of it wasn’t being used.
The CAG saw me entering, and waved me over. Before I knew what was happening, a large tankard of beer was put into my hand. Another was given to Chaos who turned up about a minute after me. She sipped at it politely, but I could see she wasn’t much into beer. I used to be, but I’d been alcohol free for so long, I knew I was a total light weight these days. I turned on my medical setting to stop me getting drunk. Or worse, falling asleep because I was drunk.
Noise was my biggest problem, with so many pilots yelling at each other. Eventually, the CAG bashed his almost empty tankard on the counter, and the noise level dropped.
"Orion's Belt twelve hundred, Trixone zero."
Cheering erupted, but was silenced fairly quickly.
"Now we're all here, the kill board is now on the wall."
More cheering, but muted as people read it. Predictably, the CAG and wing commander were on the top, which made sense as they'd had the best ships. The Excalibur pilots mostly came after them, although several of the Brawler CO's were mixed in.
The list used callsigns, and had a number in brackets after the kill number. The top end of the board all had zero in the brackets, although several of the Excalibur pilots had a one. Going down the list further I started finding twos and threes.
I found my own name about a third down the list, with thirteen confirmed kills, and a one in the brackets, which I concluded meant I’d lost one ship making the kills. So they were going to keep score of our screw-ups as well.
Rockmonster was towards the bottom with 3 kills, and one lost ship. For a cadet, I was impressed. The other two cadets were almost on the bottom of the list with no kills. One had two lost ships, and the other one. Which made me appreciate just how hard a job the mages had trying to keep them alive. But a number of the rookies only had one or two kills, and two or three lost ships. The bottom five pilots had no kills at all. The entire list was ordered by number of kills, and where the same, by the number of lost ships. Where a callsign hadn't been earned yet, the name was listed as rookie or cadet and a number.
The CAG started calling out names, and I found myself in a group who'd all officially become aces in the battle, having made five or more confirmed kills. After the toasts, he started calling out individual pilots who'd earned a new callsign, and the toasts went on.
About the time I finished my tankard, and was desperately hoping to go to sleep soon, I had to pay attention.
"We have a problem," announced Eagle. The room went quiet. "The marines want to give one of us a new callsign."
"Damned cheek!" yelled out someone in a very British accent, and there was a lot of agreement, and laughing.
"Dreamwalker, front and center."
I startled, sighed, and approached the CAG, bracing, but not at attention.
"For those of you who don't know, Dreamwalker was trained in the British space force and deployed on the Ark Royal, losing his sight on her last day in service. He is legally blind, but because of the tech level demanded by the Imperator, he can now see better than all of us. Even if he has to wear those ridiculous glasses."
More laughing, and I was now feeling embarrassed.
"I have it on the authority of the ship AI, he passed warnings to over fifty of you during his part of the battle, and most of those owe him a drink for keeping your ship loss count down. Had he launched again, I've no doubt his kill score would be double what it is now."
"Why didn’t he launch again?" asked a voice.
"The marines took him. A few of the new recruits are being considered for dropship pilots, and as he was the only one who'd flown one before, the mages plucked him out of space, and delivered him to a dropship. Which brings us to our problem."
He looked around the room, and it went quiet again.
"While on the ground, he single handedly killed an entire battalion of enemy troops. So technically, he should be on the top of that board, above Chaos, who is not on the ship roster, but ought to be."
"I don’t see a problem," said Falcon.
The CAG grinned.
"The marines want to call him," he paused for effect, "Lawnmower!"
Even I had to laugh.
"Are we going to allow it?" he bellowed.
"NO!" yelled the crowd.
It took a while to settle them down again.
"Before some of you head off to bed, like the rest of you should, check your duty roster. We'll be flying CAP's for the practice, so check how much sleep time you actually have, before you hit your bed. Anyone missing their CAP will regret it. For those not on a CAP, and assuming we're not in battle then, training will be before breakfast as usual. No-one is exempted."
He and Buzzard left. Vulture caught me on the way out.
"266 has the dawn patrol, but you're not on the flight roster. I'll be taking your slot. The marines want you for a full training session."
He nodded, and headed out. I followed.
I was asleep before I even hit my bed.
Twenty Three
"Sir, you need to get up."
The voice seemed to be coming from a long way away.
"What?"
"Get up time sir. You're going to be late for gym."
I found myself face down across the bed. Aches in my back told me I’d not been in the right alignment all night. But something far more important had me vaulting out of bed.
When I emerged from having used the facilities, including showering, I stopped, and gawked.
"Kat?"
"Yes sir."
I'd thought I’d dreamed the voice, as I’d not expected to hear it here. Kat was my aunt's butler droid.
"What're you doing here?"
"Mistress Jane brought us."
"But you're Aunt Susan's."
"Only one of us, sir."
"One of you?"
"Yes sir. She had our primary already, but the day you moved in she requisitioned two more of us to act in a secondary capacity."
"Huh? I had no idea there was more than one of you."
"That was the idea sir. Secondary units look and sound the same."
"Why need more than one?"
"One of us has always been right there with you. We had orders to give you space, but be there for what you needed. Which if you remember, was a lot early on."
"Don't remind me."
Needing someone to guide you in the fresher, and clean up after you all the time was a major bummer. Not to mention all the drinks I tipped over, mostly all over me, before I learned they were always put in the same place. And don't get me started about matching socks. Or even finding them.
"Sorry sir, won’t happen again. The second of us was needed to answer the door for you, fetch and carry if any distance was involved, and after you started doing your own food again, the third was doing your shopping for you."
"So I was never alone, even when I thought I was?"
"Never."
"How come you're here?"
"Your aunt redesignated me your primary, and the third as secondary. While you were dining with her, Mistress Jane collected us."
"Mistress Jane?"
"I understand we are an actual species now, and Jane is our head of state."
I gawked at him again, before realizing I’d never actually seen him before. Cadets didn’t rate one, and my side of the family didn’t believe in using them. Once I was blind, I’d have been totally lost without one, but now I was coming to realize just how dependent I’d been on having someone else around. And more than one.
His shape was pleasant enough, being more or less man shaped, dressed in a typical old worlde butler garb, including the frock coat and tails.
I got a hold of myself, walked over to him, and held out my hand. A bit to my surprise, he took it. I shook it, and let go.
"Thank you. All three of you. I owe you a great debt."
"You're very welcome sir. But if I may, you're about to be late at the gym."
"Gym? I'm due at the marine training courses."
"No sir. Check your duty roster."
I did. Gym. And the closest one to me as well.
"Thanks for pointing it out. I forgot to check."
"Exactly what we're here for sir."
"What do I call you now?"
"Kat is fine sir. Your aunt liked her little joke, and we're fine with the name."
"Are you sure? Both of you?"
"Completely sir. While you may occasionally see two of us, you are speaking to only one AI mind."
"What about how you look?"
"In what way sir?"
"Do you like how you look?"
"I've never thought about it sir."
"Think about it."
"I don’t follow you sir. Think about what?"
"I don’t need you dressing like something out of the twentieth century. Dress however you want."
"Ah sir, we don’t dress. This is how we look, among a few variations."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
I felt the need to talk to Jane about a few things now.
"Fine. I'm not sure when I'll be back."
"No problem sir. Mistress Jane has organized for me to know your duty roster as it changes. I aim to anticipate your needs."
"I can't fault you doing that. You've been a life saver."
"I wouldn’t go that far sir. Oh, before you go, you need to add these to an arm, sir."
I finally noticed he was holding three armbands. I took them from him, and slid them up my left arm, which had none.
"Can you follow up with Mistress Jane for replacements for those?"
"Already done sir. Go."
I went.
Outside the door and striding where my arrow pointed, I pinged Jane for a time for us to talk about butler droids.
Twenty Four
"Am I late?"
The gym was empty, except for a serious looking Sergeant Major.
"No. Right on time in fact."
I walked in, and she indicated a seat, while she took another.
"I thought I was supposed to do a full training session this morning? Isn't that what got me off the dawn patrol?"
"Dawn patrol?"
She looked confused. I only just caught myself from chuckling.
"Everyone might call it a combat air patrol these days, but we Brits still call the six am CAP the dawn patrol. Goes back to the Royal Flying Corp and World War One, where the first patrol of the day began as the sun was rising."
You didn't join the fighter arm of the Royal Navy without learning your history.
She smiled at the word Brits. I guess we were all Imps now. Or something else if our new government ever came up with a local name for us. Unless we already were Havenites and I hadn't heard.
"Easy explanation. I don’t see the point of you doing full training yet. You already proved you can't run worth a damn. Limits you to the cockpit or the ground next to the dropship. You can shoot though, so we'll update your gun knowledge shortly. Did you ever try out for marksman?"
"Marksman? No. Just did the usual learn to shoot the basics courses."
"Being a marksman is a useful skill for a dropship pilot. Then again, we need to rethink guns again for the plants. You demonstrated yesterday the need for more than what we thought would be adequate. What we need is to get a bigger gatling canon of some kind, which can do what the defense turrets did, but be hand held. Or at least combat suit held."
"I'll get on that," said Jane, over the room coms.
"And we need you combat suit trained as well. But first, your general fitness is terrible, and we need to address it pronto."
"I know. I did the best I could. But seven years in the dark made it difficult. Doc Carter seemed to think I’d done ok."
"She would. But the Doc wouldn’t make a marine team herself."
"For which she is probably eternally grateful."
BA actually laughed. It changed her whole face, and I wondered why I hadn't seen it before.
"Are we ok Sar Major?"
"You think I'm being too hard on you pilot?"
"No, but I can't help thinking I wasn’t your choice, and I'm not meeting your standards."
"There hasn’t been a choice. The twins want you, but no choice is going to be made until everyone on the list has made it up to standards, or dropped out. Yesterday was use who was available, and I simply took the opportunity to push you out of your comfort zone."
"You did that."
"And you delivered. So stow this shit, and let's get you squared away."
For the next almost two hours, she walked me through the exercise routine I already had, changing things, adding in a few I'd missed, and changing the order I did them in. She lowered several of the weights I'd planned to use, but gave me guidelines for increasing them again.
By the time she sent me off for a shower, I knew exactly how unfit I really was, and how lacking in muscle tone and strength was going to get me killed if I wasn’t careful, suit notwithstanding. It also accounted for just how exhausted I’d been the night before.
Instead of pushing me though, she'd been very encouraging. But I’d have hated to have had her as a drill sergeant back in cadet training.
Exercising in your suit meant showering was hardly necessary, since only your face sweated. But all the same, I needed the heat in a lot of places. Not that I lingered. Breakfast with the team hadn't been a suggestion. NCO as she was, didn't mean I could ignore an order from her. Not in this outfit.
The team all turned up in wet hair as well, along with the other dropship pilot potentials, and I was surprised to see, Chaos. She too had wet hair, and had obviously done her own training schedule. I wondered who didn’t. Probably no-one with a war formally on now.
"I see you survived yesterday?" she asked, as she sat next to me.
"Apparently. Anything interesting happen with the other teams?"
The noise level dropped, but all I saw was interest.
"I think you had the most interesting time of it. The plants didn’t drop that many troops. The majority were in the capital, but you took care of them without me needing to rain on their parade."
She was grinning.
"Where was Fearless?"
"About a kilometer up, directly over you. But if I’d needed to fire down, there would have been a shitload of collateral damage, and we're not that solid with the Roos yet they'd pass it off as necessary. Jon wants us on eggshells when treading their paths."
"Jon?"
"Our beloved Imperator."
I gaped at her. This is the same as gawping, only with less mouth open. The others were quietly laughing.
"Grace used to date him," added Amanda.
Mine wasn't the only jaw to drop. The laughing continued.
"Mind you," said Aleesha, "in the interest of honesty, she wasn’t the only one in this room, a couple of years ago now.
I could see my fellow pilot's eyes going very wide, and could feel mine doing the same under the suit.
"Enough said," muttered Alison.
I looked at her for just long enough to feel uncomfortable, and turned back to Grace.
"Can I ask you an impertinent question?"
"Sure. You want to know how I managed Lieutenant Commander and captain of a cruiser at my tender age. Especially given cruisers never go to less than captains."
"Never used to," added BA.
"Ah, yeah."
"The Darkness War accelerated everyone's promotions," answered Grace. "I ended up as backup pilot to Jon and George on Sceptre of Kali. George was, and still is actually, the captain of Fearless back when he was just a Commander. Now he has Scimitar, and that love of his life isn’t going to return him to anything less now."
There seemed to be general agreement about that.
"There's a lack of pilots with capital ship experience, and I happen to be the senior of who is left. And since I normally bus these bozo's around in an assault frigate, Fearless was only really a size jump, rather than a job jump. As for the third stripe at my age, Jon gave it to me when he realized I was the only one left on the bridge of a titan, and was still only a lieutenant. What a pain in the arse that promotion was."
Mouths were falling open again, but the rest of the team were laughing again.
"How so?"
"I'm navy now, not technically a pilot. So I'm having to wade through all the officer crap I assume you did before you joined your carrier the first time."
"Ah. Indeed yes. And I commiserate."
"Anyway. Jon promotes for a job well done, and the understanding you're up to the next one. I'm not the only Lieutenant Commander Captain. There's one who was a civvie pilot for a lot longer than your downtime, and he's captain of a Scimitar now."
A plate of food was placed in front of me, stopping conversation.
"Thanks Kat," I said without thinking, before noticing it was indeed Kat.
The others were getting plates from other butler droids, but only by the tag on my display could I tell who he was.
If the others noticed the name, no-one said anything. We were all too busy eating. What varied a lot, but mine was what I normally ate for breakfast, which Kat knew only too well.
