Read Online Grendels by Zachary Deaderick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Zachary Deaderick
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percent juice.”
“Three hundred primary, seventy-five secondary and eighty-seven percent juice,” Allen adds.
Miller sighs, “Alright, Four hundred primary in the can, one hundred in the secondary under the seat,” Millar laughs outright, “ninety-seven percent juice.”
“Lazy,” Allen pipes in.
“The truck?” Sanders.
“Oh, she’s got one hundred eighty-six miles in the tank, another hundred in cans, two thousand rounds for the cannon, two RIM-19 Lances, and four RGM-3 Hammers.”
“Roger, ok we are waiting on Cinderella then.”
Miller’s name populates the comm box, “We know how long this is going to take?”
Sanders gives what would pass for a frown among the soldiers, “Well it’s the first of the month and if my memory serves me, we’ll be there for a couple of hours at least.”
“Shit, who’s got personnel duty?” Allen lights up this time.
“Davis you want it?”
Staring back out through the opaque helmet Davis stands perfectly still.
“Davis you know staring at me through a camera and a screen is less effective than actually staring,” Sanders chuckles. “Alright I’ll walk her.”
“Cinderella,” Allen.
Three black obelisks of armor, weapons and war-hardened soldier stare at the little girl running down the stairs two at a time. Sanders smiles watching the veterans’ attention entirely swept up in watching a child.
“Hi Spot!” Sarah beams up at Allen.
Crouching down the giant picks up the little girl, “Well hello little miss Cinderella! How are you this morning?”
Stretching out the few steps to the Hunter Allen chats away with the little girl before setting her down inside the vehicle and climbing in himself. Sanders tilts his helmet at Davis, passing a salute in armor.
Davis steps around the vehicle taking the offset seat beside the cannon controls behind the bench seat Allen and Sarah are sitting on. Sanders walks forward climbing into the command seat. Miller cycles the locks on all the doors and checks the air integrity of the vehicle.
“Interior all green.”
“Let’s roll, and everyone watch your language,” Sanders says over the internal comms to avoid Sarah overhearing anything inappropriate.
Sanders watches as the vehicle thunders down the paved road, wheels roaring and wind tearing at the protrusions for armor and weapons. From his command seat the vehicle’s myriad scanners and cameras give him a view around the entire vehicle as well as thermal imaging, low light and long range optics.
In the back seat Cinderella bubbles up with stories for Allen. Stories about her day or her new friends at school.
“How many children are in your class?”
“Oh just seven, it's pretty small.”
“Oh wow, I had a few hundred kids in my school.”
“That’s a lot,” she says in stunned shock.
Sarah would have been about nine standard years old but Sanders wasn’t really sure if they were using the planet’s local calendar or if the clients were using Earth standard.
“How could you remember everyone’s name?”
Allen laughs, “I didn’t say I knew them all. I just said we went to the same school.”
Sanders begins checking records for spacecraft docking at the station overhead. Along with their own transport trapped in lockdown for now there were five other ships. Three passenger transport, one for cargo and one EUSF frigate. The transports were normal fare for the station to see. The numbers of passengers were also normal. The frigate on the other hand, Mongoose, shouldn’t be here.
Selecting Davis’ comm line only, “Hey take a look at this. She’s parked overhead. Just sitting in the station. Contacts aboard the docks claim she isn’t taking on cargo or fuel. Only a handful of personnel stepped so it's not a port call. They are here on some kind of official business.”
Sanders gives Davis a minute to read the entire report.
“She’s definitely on recon. Nothing onboard
“Three hundred primary, seventy-five secondary and eighty-seven percent juice,” Allen adds.
Miller sighs, “Alright, Four hundred primary in the can, one hundred in the secondary under the seat,” Millar laughs outright, “ninety-seven percent juice.”
“Lazy,” Allen pipes in.
“The truck?” Sanders.
“Oh, she’s got one hundred eighty-six miles in the tank, another hundred in cans, two thousand rounds for the cannon, two RIM-19 Lances, and four RGM-3 Hammers.”
“Roger, ok we are waiting on Cinderella then.”
Miller’s name populates the comm box, “We know how long this is going to take?”
Sanders gives what would pass for a frown among the soldiers, “Well it’s the first of the month and if my memory serves me, we’ll be there for a couple of hours at least.”
“Shit, who’s got personnel duty?” Allen lights up this time.
“Davis you want it?”
Staring back out through the opaque helmet Davis stands perfectly still.
“Davis you know staring at me through a camera and a screen is less effective than actually staring,” Sanders chuckles. “Alright I’ll walk her.”
“Cinderella,” Allen.
Three black obelisks of armor, weapons and war-hardened soldier stare at the little girl running down the stairs two at a time. Sanders smiles watching the veterans’ attention entirely swept up in watching a child.
“Hi Spot!” Sarah beams up at Allen.
Crouching down the giant picks up the little girl, “Well hello little miss Cinderella! How are you this morning?”
Stretching out the few steps to the Hunter Allen chats away with the little girl before setting her down inside the vehicle and climbing in himself. Sanders tilts his helmet at Davis, passing a salute in armor.
Davis steps around the vehicle taking the offset seat beside the cannon controls behind the bench seat Allen and Sarah are sitting on. Sanders walks forward climbing into the command seat. Miller cycles the locks on all the doors and checks the air integrity of the vehicle.
“Interior all green.”
“Let’s roll, and everyone watch your language,” Sanders says over the internal comms to avoid Sarah overhearing anything inappropriate.
Sanders watches as the vehicle thunders down the paved road, wheels roaring and wind tearing at the protrusions for armor and weapons. From his command seat the vehicle’s myriad scanners and cameras give him a view around the entire vehicle as well as thermal imaging, low light and long range optics.
In the back seat Cinderella bubbles up with stories for Allen. Stories about her day or her new friends at school.
“How many children are in your class?”
“Oh just seven, it's pretty small.”
“Oh wow, I had a few hundred kids in my school.”
“That’s a lot,” she says in stunned shock.
Sarah would have been about nine standard years old but Sanders wasn’t really sure if they were using the planet’s local calendar or if the clients were using Earth standard.
“How could you remember everyone’s name?”
Allen laughs, “I didn’t say I knew them all. I just said we went to the same school.”
Sanders begins checking records for spacecraft docking at the station overhead. Along with their own transport trapped in lockdown for now there were five other ships. Three passenger transport, one for cargo and one EUSF frigate. The transports were normal fare for the station to see. The numbers of passengers were also normal. The frigate on the other hand, Mongoose, shouldn’t be here.
Selecting Davis’ comm line only, “Hey take a look at this. She’s parked overhead. Just sitting in the station. Contacts aboard the docks claim she isn’t taking on cargo or fuel. Only a handful of personnel stepped so it's not a port call. They are here on some kind of official business.”
Sanders gives Davis a minute to read the entire report.
“She’s definitely on recon. Nothing onboard
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