New Paragraph -04-12-2014 -Edited

--””--

After arguing with the computronic that he really wanted Pertharian shower program three and dressed in Standard BDU, he emerged from the shower facilities to be greeted by the same Chief who was now accompanied by two Army security guards.

“What is this? Am I under arrest or something?”

“No Sir, I just have orders that you are arrive safe and sound at your destination.”

“Army guards aboard a Navy battleship?

“Sir, you are armed and we are now asking you to relinquish your side arm. Not that I could see the reason or the wisdom to allow anyone to carry a TKU 12. These guns are quite illegal.”

“Not for me.”

“I know Lt. Masters. Natives of Perko, Natviv, Bottom Hole and Green Hell are indeed able to carry pretty much anything up to Class nine.”

“You are not a Navy Chief.”

“It helps to blend in. Now please let us proceed to Sick Bay.”

“I go nowhere until you identify yourself and I verify you indeed have orders from the Admiral.”

The human pretending to be a Navy Chief pressed his wrist PDD and the holographic image of INSCOM appeared. “I am Captain Prescot Central, Security Service.”

“Intelligence and security command? Sir, I am a Marine, this is a Navy ship. What business does Army Intelligence have here? Not to mention the no jurisdiction part.”

“You are still a Lieutenant and you need to follow orders.”

“The hell I have to, and if you think you can get me to go anywhere before I know what this is all about, you are in for a surprise. Now for the second part of my request. Authenticate your badge and your orders.”

Both guards, a Stellaris and a Quadiped, raised their service weapons, not fast enough though, the Army Officer stared in the bore of Roy's TKU. Sweat appeared on his forehead as he saw the shimmering discharge focus field. “Take it easy Lieutenant.”

To the Quadi Ped he hissed, “Why is his TKU still active?”

“Sir the Command Overwrite seemed to have failed.”

“Isn't that a disappointment.” Roy grinned, but only on the outside. The situation unnerved him more than just a little. This was a Union battleship and just outside the Marines shower facilities and not Army. “System, this is Lt. Masters. Alert ship security to my location.”

The man said. “System ignore that order, Captain Prescot, verify.”

“Captain Prescot Identity verified.” The ship computronic responded, “INSCOM command authority insufficient to overwrite. Security has been dispatched.”

The man hissed. “You disobeyed a direct order. This will have consequences.”

Four marines, all Pertharians with SITKUs aimed appeared. One of them thundered, “Drop your weapons, all of you.”

Roy did and the Army guys followed.

--””--

Before the marines had a chance to do much else, the Captain of the ship appeared, the Army Colonel in his wake.

“What’s going on here?”

Roy snapped into attention and said, “Sir, these gentlemen pretend to be Navy personnel and tried to force me at gunpoint to follow them.”

The INSCOM man revealed his badge again. “This is a matter of Union security, this subject is required to undergo a few tests.”

“That might be a Fleet first, a security alert from the Marine quarters regarding an Army attempt to capture a Marine”, The Captain said. “I am still in the dark and quite confused to say the least. I take security alerts aboard my ship quite serious. I take clandestine actions of the Union Army aboard a Fleet vessel beyond serious!”

The Colonel said “This man resisted the Whakey influence and was able to activate the Auto Docs function of all his platoon. Either he is in cahoots with the Whakeys or he has knowledge about their powers. He must be examined and questioned!”

The Captain appeared to be an Ebony Elfin, with the characteristic dark skin and the pointed ears, but the expression of his face was quite human, and very uncharacteristically for an Ebony Elfin, he actually raised his voice. “Did you just admit to an Army Intel operation aboard my ship?”

The captain waved his hand. “Marines arrest the whole lot, the Colonel and his Army Intel cronies and put them under lock and key.”

“You can't do that! I am a Colonel of the Army! This will have consequences!”

“You have obviously no idea what a Starship Captain can do on his vessel! I agree with you however; it will have consequences, all the way to the Assembly. Marines if he does not fully cooperate, I authorize prisoner control suits.”

The Pertharian marines had no facial muscles to display their emotions, yet Roy was around these giants from the Andromeda galaxy long enough to know they were grinning as they took the three individuals into custody.

One of them said. “PCS it is.”

The Quadiped complained. “I didn't do anything!”

“You were told to cooperate.”

Just then Inklung entered the shower and hygiene facilities and said. “Captain Gerlor, may I take my friend Lt. Masters, to sickbay. That part is indeed vital, however, the way my Army peer handled it is of course completely deplorable.”

“There won't be any experimenting or interrogation of Marines or any service member on my ship, understood?”

“Yes Sir, I assure you. All we want is to make sure the Lieutenant is indeed unharmed and the interrogation part, I intend to conduct over drinks somewhere nice on R deck along with some catching up.”

The captain looked at Roy. “You are hereby ordered to report any shenanigans to me personally.”

“Yes Captain, Sir, but I think I can trust Inklung, he really is a close friend.”

The CO of the ship dismissed them and Roy followed his Leedei friend into the main corridor of this deck.

Inklung had his hands folded on his back and looked up to Roy who was a good head taller. “You have grown since we meet last.”

Roy grinned. “I'd give you a hug, but I am still in Uniform and from the looks of it you too. Don't see any rank insignia however.”

“I hold the rank of an Army Captain, but while we are a part of the Army, we are more or less a separate unit.”

“I never expected to see you on a battleship. Didn't you want to become a Union School teacher?”

“It's still on my scanner, before you can become a teacher you must have served. Besides we are in a war and you know how serious we Leedei take our Union commitments.”

“Yes I do, an entire Union member society went out of its way to help a distressed boy. I will never forget that. You are Army Intelligence too?”

“No, PSI Corps.”

“Of course, I should have guessed.”

They both took a IST to Sickbay and the Leedei said. “I know you received training from the Gray Cats on Sares, and their knowledge of Psionics is more than at par with Leedei. Did they teach you anything about visual psionics?”

“No, I was not a very good student and my HPI isn't high enough for the real stuff. I just learned some defensive telepathy. It was that ability of mine able to sense danger and react to it.”

“I remember that too, but back then I dismissed it as just keen observation of your surroundings and those fast reflexes of yours. Neither Leedei nor Saresii know of any psionic ability that allows looking ahead in time, but then we and you encountered a version of psionics that appears to work right past our best psi shielding.”

Inklung stayed with Roy as two specialists performed several tests and scans. One of them a Saresii beauty and the other a Blue.

The Saresii spread his arms and said to Inklung. “If I would have to guess, I would classify this Marine as a lifelong Califerm user, but we could not find any indications of such drug use.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Mr. Masters had an HPI of just over 120 when he was tested in Union school. He tested at over 300 when he joined the Marines and now is at 490. As you know, the Heidelberg Psi Index can, in rare cases increase with age, but a few points at most. Such a significant growth is usually only achieved with Psi surgery and drugs.”

Roy shook his head. “I don't do drugs and I never had psycho surgery, at least not to my knowledge.”

“Not psycho surgery but a surgical procedure to craft a bigger, more powerful psi gland into an individual. Psi surgery was quite common during the Saresii First Age of Knowledge, but is about as rare today as a Saresii with a beard. The recently joined Delicates are experts in this field.”

“No sorry, no such surgery, but I am from Green Hell. I am quite immune to Califerm. I was exposed to the real and raw dust, and it never really affected me.”

The Blue specialist kept looking over the test and scan data. “It might be an explanation and it affected you after all, just without any of the ill effects. What puzzles me that we could not really detect any psionic gift, other than a very basic level of telepathy. At this level you should be a very strong telepath or even start showing other abilities like telekinesis. Yet there is no indication.”

Inklung said. “Roy did resist the Whakeys and no matter how fast his sense of danger warned him. Your report states that you did see the red light.”

“Yes I did. I don't think I looked directly into it.”

“It took a mere glimpse for others to be instantly enthralled and under the influence.”

“There were several marines in my platoon who weren't affected either.”

“Only one, Roy. The others were either shut down by your command or wounded and otherwise incapacitated. Only your Non Corp remained free of influence, and there is no psionic ability we know that have any effect on them.”

Roy sighed, “So what is next. Dissection?”

Inklung put his hand on Roy's shoulder. “How about a drink and we catch up. I don't think we will learn much more. The most talented psi experts of the Union are working on this. Besides we do have several live Whakeys in custody and I could imagine that dissection might be fate of one of them.”

“I think a drink is a good idea, just let me check my standing orders.”

As they left sickbay, Inklung said. “There isn't a shuttle available, resources are maxed out for at least four or five hours. So it is a safe guess you have at least this long before you can return to the Stryker.”

“This boat must have hundreds of shuttles. What would cause them all to be in use?”

“Not just this ship’s shuttles, Roy. The USS Investigator has arrived along with two Tiny Tims. That planet you just visited is more than just a swamp planet but appears to be Whakey stronghold. Every piece and bit is collected and ferried to the Investigator and the Tims. Intel is convinced neither the Whakeys nor the Galactic Council will let us have all this without a fight. Reports of an enormous GC fleet heading this way causes this activity.”

“And I thought the war was as good as over. Why not make a stand? “

“I don't know. I am Psi Corps. Fleet Command isn't sharing strategic and tactical decisions with us.”

--””--

Inklung was right. His standing orders were to return to the Stryker, with the first available shuttle. A real Navy Chief told him that he would have to wait at least 4 hours before a shuttle would be available.

So he found himself sitting at a table with Inklung on R deck in front of a rustic styled tavern. Inklung had a Infuser mug with Leedei Heavy Tea before him, while Roy nursed a glass of chilled Cranberry juice.

The skin membrane before Inklung’s actual mouth was porous and allowed the passage of liquids, but he had to immerse his entire head into the liquid or use a Leedei Infuser cup that covered his entire mouth area so he could create the necessary suction. Seeing a Leedei drink or eat was quite a strange sight, but Roy had spent some time on their home planet and no longer really noticed.

“Ah that is actually quite good Heavy tea.” Inklung put the almost empty mug down. “It's not as easy as it might sound to find good tea.”

“I actually got used to that brown stuff you call Stronga, but how you can stand this bitter liquid is beyond me.”

Inklung laughed. “Yes I remember when you tried it first. I was afraid we did not have enough water on the entire planet, the way you tried to wash your mouth.”

Roy also grinned. “I am sorry, I should have tried more to stay in contact.”

“There was so much going on, in both our lives. I also should have put more efforts in maintaining contact, but I did see your grand appearance before the Assembly when you presented the Wurgus and I got your message when you were accepted by the Marines. I was already in the PSI Corps Academy and we have strict rules about communication or in more precise terms we were not allowed to communicate, not even with our Sip Sap.”

“I understand. We Marines call you the Mind Spooks and have all sorts of scuttlebutt and horror stories what you guys can do.”

Inklung's voice trailed off as he said. “The horror stories are quite true and not even the beginning of the truth.”

“That bad?”

“Yes, but the result is unparalleled. The Union Psi Corps could win every war we Leedei fought in the past. Now let us rather speak of other things. I for one are surprised to see you without Partner. I sort of hoped to see your beast again.”

“Unfortunately the Marine Corps has rather strict rules regarding keeping pets. He is guarding my bride to be and stays with her Union side.”

The Blue Psi specialist approached the table. “Captain Inklung, the team from Esther-Song has arrived and we are all to transfer to the Investigator.”

“Now?”

“Yes Sir, it appears you have both your PDD and your PSI radio turned off.” Inklung got up. “I am so sorry, I wanted to talk some more.”

Roy also got up and took Inklung’s spidery hand. “War and duty comes first my friend.”

Inklung stepped closer and gave Roy a hug. “This is what humans and friends do. Your Uncle Sam would say 'I give a Boloth's ass what others think' right?”

“Indeed he would. Thanks Inklung, thank you for what you did back then. I owe you.”

“You owe me an invitation to your wedding once this war is over.”

“Deal. So you think we will win?”

“We got Stahl, is there any doubt?”

Inklung left and Roy felt almost as right as rain. His friend was right. Even if the enemy would gain the secret of Translocators and Para Dim shields. They did not have Stahl.

–“”--

Roy had returned to the Stryker, the Whakey incident was a good month in the past and nothing official was mentioned. Again there were rumors of a tremendous space battle with several variations regarding its outcome, but even the best version was not reporting a clear victory.

They were on their way to the Normandy. The Navy captain of the Stryker had just announced via Ship wide that the Stryker was now less than a Standard day out.

Roy stepped through the heavy doors of Troop receiving bay four. The bay was doubling as a gun range and his platoon, under the watchful eye of Gunnery Sergeant Dunn, conducted a live fire exercise.

Roy insisted that his marines constantly trained and honed their skills, but above all he wanted them to be the best damn rifle experts in the entire corps. Not an easy challenge and the coveted unit citation 'Best Weapon experts of the Corps' so far eluded their efforts. Not by much, but the competition for this citation was fierce and the title was held for over 600 years by the same team, the Steel Gauntlet, the first Marine Platoon aboard the USS Devastator, also known as Stahl's Own.

His marines used their SITKUs in sniper mode, sans any targeting aids against fast moving targets beyond the wide open hangar doors.

Dunn knew his Platoon leader and did not call for attention. He simply turned his torso so he could look at Roy directly. “Lucy is showing off again. Scored a 219, just a dot under 220 for the expert qual.”

Roy sighed as he looked over the PDD, Dunn was holding. “But Snyder just hovers at 209. That means we won't see BW citation on our wall this year.”

“Well if there were a Platoon citation of that nature for Artillery support, we'd ace it. Eugbenzi is amazing. Even without any trajectory targeting assistance he lays his ordinance dead smack center in the target zone. I have no idea how he does it.”

Roy was still not too happy, “True, but I expect him to do better with his SITKU.”

The huge Lordor had heard Roy’s last words, the massive SITKU looking like a toy despite the adjusted grips and stock. “Sir, I do my best, but the weapon is simply too small. If you want, I will ask for a transfer. I don't want to be the reason our platoon does not qualify.”

“Sergeant Eugbenzi, I didn't even hear that. Do your best you can, the answer to your problem awaits on the Normandy. Or in other words. SII sent a custom SITKU just for you. I was told it is enormous, you are after all the biggest Marine. Unless the Bandrupo join, not that that will ever happen.”

Dunn chuckled “Could you possibly imagine the SITKU of a Bandrupo marine? That would be in the Battle ship armament range.”

“Taking cover means hiding behind the next mountain range. Naa Mr. Dunn, as much fun such an image might be, we still have a BaPhy and our walking fur coat is already stretching the boundaries. Say Staff Sergeant, how come you have been on that planet, saving my bacon. Weren't you supposed to take a class on the Normandy?”

Dunn made a guilty face. “My fault, Sir. I forgot to tell you that his marching orders were cancelled, his transport was turned around. When he was back he did what he always does, drop after us.”

“And boy I am glad you did, Mr. Eugbenzi.” Roy said and pointed down range. “Still all this chit chat won't get you any better, I like to see at least a little improvement. I know you can!”

“Aye, Sir.”

Roy slowly walked down the line and stopped behind each marine for a moment. Finally he stopped behind Private Boscoe.

“Mr. Boscoe, you should do better than that. You are basically right out of boot camp.”

“Yes Sir, I am trying. I think my SITKUs optics are a little off and we didn't do much Non-assist shooting.”

“Where did you go?”

“San Clemente, Sir. Golden State planet.”

Dunn looked to the hangar ceiling and Roy grunted. “Well that explains a lot then. “

He took the weapon from the private and stepped up to the line and fired fifty bolts in rapid succession. The range computronic snarled. “Rifle Expert qualified. Maximum score, 250.”

Roy handed Dunn the weapon. “I can't find anything wrong with this weapon”. The Gunnery sergeant did the same and again the voice proclaimed. “Rifle Expert qualified, Maximum score, 250.”

“You are correct Sir, this weapon is in perfect condition.”

Roy said. “Mr. Boscoe, this is your SITKU. If you feel there is anything wrong with it, I expect you to do whatever it takes to fix it, adjust it. You do not only recite the Rifeman's creed. You must believe it.”

“Sir, what creed?”

Dunn shrugged his shoulders. “San Clemente, Sir.”

“Mr. Dunn, this is my platoon, San Clemente or not. Private Boscoe is excused from the range and reports to the armory. There he will service and clean every SITKU according to maintenance level one. When I see you the next time, I expect you to show me how to adjust the Emergency optic adjust for the reflex sights and how to remove the A17 and replace it in under 3 minutes, while reciting the Rifleman's creed.”

“Aye Sir.”

--””--