Chapter Eighty-Seven (Ekret) (2/2)
”Human history is fifty-thousand years of fighting interrupted here and there by vague peace. Think of fifty-thousand years of Council history, now invert the peace and war times, and you have Terrans,” Trucker said. He paused to scoop out some of the shredded leaf with one finger and deposit it behind his lower lip.
Ekret pulled out his gnawed plas-tube and put it in his mouth, knowing by Trucker's speech patterns that the big human wasn't done.
”We had to learn to build fast and semi-permanent, since sometimes you dug in under fire, or had mere hours to get it done. Alpha-338 is part of the Mantid engineer caste, he's got an instinct for construction even sharper than his fellow greens. He can run the coding on a construction pod to get it to run at better efficiency than even factory specifications would suggest. Greenies are good at engineering work,” Trucker said, pulling an small empty bottle out of one pocket.
”That's why our crews are having a green mantid added to them,” Ekret mused.
”Yup. My own Cry Little Sister has a half-dozen greenies on the active combat crew. They've saved our asses more than once,” Trucker said. The doors slid open, revealing the massive bay.
”Welp, lots of stupid shit to do,” Trucker grunted, stepping out into the bay.
Ekret nodded. ”Time to put the eaten meal back into the ration bag.”
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”SHOT OUT!” Cheapshot yelled.
”HIT! STILL UP!” Bouncy called out over the datalink.
”Can't see shit! Get my scanners back online, 749!” Cheapshot snapped.
”Affirmative,” everyone's datalink decoded the two flashed icons. The interior maintenance panel was open and the small foot high green mantis, a toolpack in front of its torso, was yanking the thin wafers out of the panel that glowed the green of maintenance mode rather than the red of active and replacing them with new ones from the small nanoforge on the top of its abdomen.
”TARGET!” Ekret said, feeling the tingle in his paws.
”SHOT OUT!” Cheapshot yelled.
”compensating” 749 flashed across the datalink.
”NEGATIVE IMPACT!” Bouncy squealed.
”Get behind him, Steps,” Ekret snapped to Sselssen, his driver. ”He's trying to get behind us.”
A loud clanking sound hammered out from behind and to the right of Ekret.
”Losing air pressure in nacelle three!” Sselssen said. ”Compensating.”
The tank vibrated as Sselseen applied more power to the turbofan and graviton assist for hover-nacelle three, at the mid-line starboard side of the tank.
There was more clanking.
”Nacelle four. Enemy's chewing up our fans!” Sselssen called out.
”TARGET!”
”SHOT OUT!”
”NEGATIVE IMPACT!”
”Scanners back up!” Cheapshot said, leaning back and kicking the plasma-cannon's autoloader to unstick it. Heat from constant firing had made the lining expand, causing it to stick. The autoloader slammed shut.
749 shut the panel and opened another one, disappearing into the maintenance space.
”Hold on!” Sselssen yelled and the tank suddenly slewed around as the saurian scraped the front right nacelle against the ground, using friction assist to turn the hovertank.
The round hit dead center of the tank's side. A big 200mm sabot shot. The crew compartment filled with white light, then everything went dark.
'shit' 749 flashed in the darkness.
The light came back up, showing the smooth white surfaces of the simulator.
”GOTCHA EKRET! - TRUCKER” appeared in midair.
Ekret ground his teeth on the empty ration tube and shook his head.
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In the elevator Halkrut, his XO, looked at Ekret. ”The Precursors never targeted our nacelles before. They went for hull shots.”
Ekret took the empty ration tube out of his mouth and put it in his pocket. ”So far. The Precursors are a determined and adaptible enemy, it's only a matter of time until they start developing tactics to offset our advantages. MILINT believes that's why they withdrew, to formulate strategies.”
Halkrut opened his mouth then shut it, reaching up to comb his whiskers. ”Unified Military Forces would have never had us train as if the Precursors knew all our weaknesses,” he mused.
”And they have not achieved victory in a single engagement,” Ekret agreed, smoothing the fur on his still living leg.
”At times I feel it is unfair to pit General Trucker against us in simulations. Many of his crewmembers have been inside tanks since the time of my grand-guru,” Halkrut said, tugging on his whiskers. ”But I have noticed a steady increase in skills among our men.”
”You don't get better fighting the worst, you get better fighting against the best,” Zhukov said over the datalink.
”You are right, Honored Zhukov,” Halkrut admitted, flicking his tail.
The door opened and the two former neo-sapients walked down the corridor toward the large briefing room.
”Welp, time to tell Smokey-No about all our dysfunctions,” Halkrut said, shaking his head. ”It is strange that failures are used as learning tools rather than a reason to replace or terminate the contract of the being making the mistake.”
”Terrans are strange,” Ekret agreed.
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”Suggestions, Ekret?” Nodra'ak asked, jabbing the end of the smoking tube at Ekret, through his own hologram.
”Perhaps a second combat maintenance technician for each vehicle? My men do not have the extensive experience with our vehicles that I would prefer,” Ekret replied.
Nodra'ak put the tube in his mandibles, obviously thinking. After a moment he nodded. ”An excellent suggestion. I'll make the changes,” the Treana'ad turned to Trucker. ”And you?”
Trucker tapped his own holo. ”Ekret's men, and some of mine, are starting to show fatigue. We need time off for the men.”
Nodra'ak went still, thinking again.
”Announce a four day weekend. That includes all officers and commanders. The only people I want on duty are the MP's,” Nodra'ak said. He paused again. ”Inform the men that in the next week the first of the family transports will arrive. After the weekend, let's shift to maintenance mode, get the paperwork done, re-configure the bases, shuffle some units and personnel, and other tasks we have been putting off.”
Ekret nodded, making notes.
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”Might I make a suggestion, General Ekret?” Zhukov broke into Ekret's chain of thought as he stared at paperwork.
”Yes, Zhukov?”
”Perhaps you should take time to design your unit standard. It will take your mind off of going over the same paperwork for the tenth time as well as provide a morale boost to your men,” Zhukov said over the datalink.
Ekret looked at the clock and jerked in surprise. It was nearly midnight. The realization made him yawn.
”Perhaps tomorrow, Zhukov,” Ekret said. ”I think now I'll go to bed.”
”Sleep is important to optimal function. I will take the time to defragment and perform other maintenance tasks,” Zhukov said.
”Good night, Zhukov. Pleasant dreams,” Ekret said, standing up.
”And you, General,” Zhukov answered.
Ekret was asleep almost before his face hit the pillow.
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SPACE FORCE ALERT
V CORPS (MIXED METAL) IS TO GO TO IMMEDIATE STAND-TO ALERT! SYSTEMS UNDER ATTACK BY UNKNOWN FORCES!
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