Read Online CassaStorm by Alex J. Cavanaugh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alex J. Cavanaugh
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He’d told Athee goodnight at he gathered the blankets. Byron sent a similar thought in his son’s direction.
Goodnight, Father. I love you, Bassan thought.
Eyes still closed, Byron used his last trace of energy to smile. I love you.
Multiple messages came through in the middle of the night. Byron stirred long enough to answer those that required an immediate reply, dropping back into a dreamless sleep the moment his head returned to the pillow. In the morning, he discovered Bassan curled up beside him.
Wonder when this happened? Byron thought, stretching his legs.
He roused his son, prodding him to get ready for his classes. Since damage to the base was minimal, Byron had decided the children should attend classes as usual. It would keep their minds occupied and free their parents to tend to other tasks. All personnel would be required today.
Several officers awaited his arrival, seeking guidance and approval for the day’s assignments. The immediate decisions out of the way, Byron went into Ktren to view the damage firsthand. He met with Prefect Enteller, who guided him to the areas hit hardest.
The Cassan transport vehicle moved slowly through the streets, navigating piles of broken stone and Tgren carts filled with debris. The oppressing mood hung heavy in the air, like the heat of a summer afternoon before a thunderstorm. Men and women sifted through the rubble, their hands and faces covered with dust. The scenes were a sharp contrast to the images Athee had projected yesterday. No longer driven by fear and the urgency to find survivors, the Tgrens had settled into resignation and depression.
Tearing his gaze from the downcast faces, Byron turned to the prefect. “Enteller, I require a list of your best pilots. Send it to Officer Hurend this afternoon. Include each man and woman’s profile. My senior squadron commander will select the most qualified to begin training tomorrow.”
The prefect nodded, his head still turned toward the window. “Will they train to fly Cosbolts?”
“No, Cosbolts require both a pilot and navigator to fly. It would take too long to train your people how to operate them. We have several one-seater Dartens here on the base, and the Nacinta is sending down their extra fighters. We’ll also train some for the shuttles so all craft can be utilized.”
Byron waited for a response, unsure if his words had registered with the man. Enteller had voted last night in favor of a declaration of war without a single protest, his usual fire absent. The former prefect, Athee’s uncle, had been set in his ways when Byron arrived on this planet many years ago. The threat of the alien probe, guided to this world by the ancient alien ship, changed the man’s outlook. Byron had enjoyed dealing with Orellen, especially once he took command of the base. Enteller had come with his own views, determined to preserve Tgren’s way of life. Yesterday’s attack had changed his plans, but Byron now feared it had crushed the man’s spirit in the process.
“Prefect Enteller, we will prepare your people as quickly as possible,” he said, shifting in his seat to gain the man’s attention.
“But will it be enough?” Enteller turned to face him, his skin pulled tight over his drawn face. “Will they be able to learn in time to make a difference?”
“If you send me your best, we can have them proficient within weeks.”
“You’re sure it can be done?”
Suppressing his smugness, Byron crossed his arms. “Twenty years ago, the first Tgren pilot trained on a shuttle mastered its flight in just over a week.”
Enteller rolled his head in Byron’s direction. “Officer Athee?” he said, eyebrows arched.
“Yes. Between training and observing my actions, she learned enough to perform basic maneuvers.”
The prefect rested his elbow against the door of the transport. “I didn’t realize you’d trained her yourself.”
“That’s how I knew she’d make a good Cosbolt navigator,” said
Goodnight, Father. I love you, Bassan thought.
Eyes still closed, Byron used his last trace of energy to smile. I love you.
Multiple messages came through in the middle of the night. Byron stirred long enough to answer those that required an immediate reply, dropping back into a dreamless sleep the moment his head returned to the pillow. In the morning, he discovered Bassan curled up beside him.
Wonder when this happened? Byron thought, stretching his legs.
He roused his son, prodding him to get ready for his classes. Since damage to the base was minimal, Byron had decided the children should attend classes as usual. It would keep their minds occupied and free their parents to tend to other tasks. All personnel would be required today.
Several officers awaited his arrival, seeking guidance and approval for the day’s assignments. The immediate decisions out of the way, Byron went into Ktren to view the damage firsthand. He met with Prefect Enteller, who guided him to the areas hit hardest.
The Cassan transport vehicle moved slowly through the streets, navigating piles of broken stone and Tgren carts filled with debris. The oppressing mood hung heavy in the air, like the heat of a summer afternoon before a thunderstorm. Men and women sifted through the rubble, their hands and faces covered with dust. The scenes were a sharp contrast to the images Athee had projected yesterday. No longer driven by fear and the urgency to find survivors, the Tgrens had settled into resignation and depression.
Tearing his gaze from the downcast faces, Byron turned to the prefect. “Enteller, I require a list of your best pilots. Send it to Officer Hurend this afternoon. Include each man and woman’s profile. My senior squadron commander will select the most qualified to begin training tomorrow.”
The prefect nodded, his head still turned toward the window. “Will they train to fly Cosbolts?”
“No, Cosbolts require both a pilot and navigator to fly. It would take too long to train your people how to operate them. We have several one-seater Dartens here on the base, and the Nacinta is sending down their extra fighters. We’ll also train some for the shuttles so all craft can be utilized.”
Byron waited for a response, unsure if his words had registered with the man. Enteller had voted last night in favor of a declaration of war without a single protest, his usual fire absent. The former prefect, Athee’s uncle, had been set in his ways when Byron arrived on this planet many years ago. The threat of the alien probe, guided to this world by the ancient alien ship, changed the man’s outlook. Byron had enjoyed dealing with Orellen, especially once he took command of the base. Enteller had come with his own views, determined to preserve Tgren’s way of life. Yesterday’s attack had changed his plans, but Byron now feared it had crushed the man’s spirit in the process.
“Prefect Enteller, we will prepare your people as quickly as possible,” he said, shifting in his seat to gain the man’s attention.
“But will it be enough?” Enteller turned to face him, his skin pulled tight over his drawn face. “Will they be able to learn in time to make a difference?”
“If you send me your best, we can have them proficient within weeks.”
“You’re sure it can be done?”
Suppressing his smugness, Byron crossed his arms. “Twenty years ago, the first Tgren pilot trained on a shuttle mastered its flight in just over a week.”
Enteller rolled his head in Byron’s direction. “Officer Athee?” he said, eyebrows arched.
“Yes. Between training and observing my actions, she learned enough to perform basic maneuvers.”
The prefect rested his elbow against the door of the transport. “I didn’t realize you’d trained her yourself.”
“That’s how I knew she’d make a good Cosbolt navigator,” said
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