Chapter 523: Resurgence (1/2)
General NoDra'ak looked at the gathered officers as he exhaled smoke.
”So nobody else received the template file or a tank upgrade?” he asked.
General Warkrawk shook her head. ”No, sir. Just V Corps (Old Blood).”
”Do we know why?” General NoDra'ak asked. ”This would have been disastrous if we had tried to field those tanks?”
Warkrawk nodded. ”So, the tank was designed on Terra, part of the Force 86C Project. Full force modernization with lessons learned from the Lanaktallan War. The tanks we had, that replaced the tanks we had three years ago, were a stopgap to try to cover defects we discovered facing the Dwellerspawn.”
”Right,” Smokey 'No said. He shuffled the cards and dealt them out, politely ignoring how Ge'ermo'o squinted at him.
”The tank was fielded, was performing quite well. That means design moved from theory to proof of concept for the next tank generation sometime last year, even though the tanks we're all currently using are still undergoing full trials with Eighty-Six-Charlie,” Warkrawk said. She glanced at her cards, then threw a chit in. ”In in.”
”Why is it still undergoing trials if we are using it?” A'armo'o asked. He glared at his cards as if they were to blame for his shitty hand.
”Standard Confed procedure,” Trucker said. He tossed in the chits. ”I see and raise.”
”Anyway, we all know that the current Warsteel, based off of the old Cole-Bunch Imperium X, has been the standard for eight thousand years. There's always been pressure to improve on it or replace it with something better,” Warkrawk said. She tossed two cards down. ”Take two.”
Smokey 'No nodded, tossing her two cards, keeping his face expressionless that he'd pulled her second card off the bottom of the deck.
”Well, a couple of months ago, Treana'ad scientists managed to produce a new warsteel variant, listed as Mark V, with the code-name 'Peanut Brittle Super Crunch', and immediately sent the data to the design teams,” Warkrawk said. She made a face and tossed her cards down. ”Fold.”
”How long till the WM5 catches on fire or turns out to give you ball cancer?” Trucker wondered. He tossed a single card done. ”I'll take one.”
Smokey 'No dealt it out of the middle of the deck smoothly, without anyone noticing, after seeing Ge'ermo'o was busy picking peanuts out of the bowl.
”Probably next week. Anyway, there's a weight difference with WM5, as well as the new laminates having different profiles, so that means that tank's armor and superstructure needs redone. That meant that the designers had to push a new tank model to Force Eighty-Six-Charlie,” Warkrawk said.
”How did we get it?” NoDra'ak asked. ”Raise.”
A'armo'o looked at his cards suspiciously. ”Raise.”
”That's where the fun comes in,” Warkrawk said. ”We suffered severe time dilation effects during the fighting here.”
”And it affected the file,” Trucker guessed. He grabbed a handful of pretzels and shoved some into his mouth.
”No. It actually just compounded a problem,” Warkrawk said. She tossed another chit. ”Raise.”
Ge'ermo'o tossed his cards down. ”Fold.”
”What was the problem?” Smokey 'No asked, exhaling smoke and using it as cover to swap one of his cards with another from the bottom of the deck after glancing at Ge'ermo'o.
”I was with Eight-Six before being accepted to V Corps,” she said. She took a hit off her drink and picked up a cigar, snipping the end off. ”I was reassigned there due to the Die Off. I'd just gotten orders when we dropped in-system.”
”The time dilation made it so that your personal timestamp and the shipboard timestamps, which the needlecast and superluminal communications array rely upon, was after your reporting date to this new unit,” A'armo'o guessed.
”You got it in one,” Warkrawk said. She lit the cigar with a match, puffing out smoke. ”Since PERSCOM stated I was at my duty station and the fleet timestamp on my communications was after my reporting date to Eight-Six, I was forwarded that file,” she exhaled a long plume of smoke. ”I'll be accepting command of the Armor Testing Group. Since it was a testbed mockup, the file was locked so that unauthorized changes that were not directly from the planning group couldn't be added and mess up the trials. It was marked priority because they want to test the new warsteel ASAP.”
”And so the file instructions were immediate replacement of all current super-heavy tanks,” Smokey 'No said. ”Call.”
”Yup. I informed PERSCOM and a few other relevant groups that we're under temporal warfare protocols out here, so they might want to make sure that people are where they say they are,” she said. She put down her cards. ”Full house, nines over threes.”
Smokey 'No laid down his cards. ”Straight flush.”
That brought cursing.
Smokey 'No shuffled the cards with one hand as he raked in the pot with his bladearm.
”That's one problem solved. Here's to solving tomorrow's problems before they cost lives,” he said.
Everyone raised their glasses to that as Smokey 'No dealt the cards.
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Vuxten limped across the dining hall and sat down at a table where only one person was sitting at. He dragged his cast around and shifted till he was comfortable.
”Evening, sir,” Casey said, staring at his food.
Vuxten noticed he'd only taken a few bites.
”Something wrong with the food, Lance Corporal?” Vuxten asked mildly.
Casey nodded. ”It tastes like cardboard and wet plascrete.”
Vuxten nodded. He held out his fork. ”Mind if I check it?”
Casey snorted, tapping the red jello with his fork so it bounced. ”Go ahead.”
Vuxten speared some of the sauce covered noodles with his fork and tasted it.
It was tasteless, slightly greasy, and the noodles were weird unpleasant mushy feeling.
”It's not in your head. Something's wrong with it,” Vuxten said.
”Light was blinking on the dispenser. Figured it was still good for one more meal before it needed reloaded,” Casey sighed. He pushed his tray to the side. ”I'm not really hungry anyway.”
Vuxten shook his head. ”Go get another tray,” he told the human, making a note on his datalink to talk to whoever was in charge of the food forges.
”Yes, sir,” Casey said, his tone slightly mournful. He got up picked up his tray, and Vuxten watched him walk over to the big row of food forges. After a couple of minutes the human sat back down, the food on his tray steaming. Vuxten could see an omelette, an orange, a pack of vitamin supplements, and a glass of grapefruit juice on the tray.
”Breakfast?” Vuxten asked.
”I like omelettes,” Casey said. He took a bite, closed his eye, and sighed in pleasure as he chewed.
Vuxten ate silently, watching the big human. Casey scarfed down the omelette before Vuxten finished his food, pushing the empty tray to the side and smiling.
”Much better,” Casey said. He rubbed his stomach. ”That hits the spot.”
Vuxten nodded, setting his fork down. ”Casey, do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
Casey sighed. ”Is it about my religion?”