The Universe - or Nothing - Cover

The Universe - or Nothing

Public Domain

Chapter 38

The soft clicks of switches opening and closing and the soft thunks of levers rammed home were the only sounds on the Dragon’s command deck as Drummer and Brad climbed the companionway.

Captain Hyk, standing on the bridge platform above the command deck, took them in with a quick glance, nodded, and continued about his business directing and observing the Dragon entering launch.

Brad followed Drummer to a computer in a tiny alcove on a balcony above the plotting table. They swung seats out from under the table on which the console rested, sat, and Brad entered his DNA ID and password. He followed with instructions that brought a series of real-time graphics across the monitor.

Selecting first one, then another, the two men studied the displays, as they pointed and commented on their observations. Drummer straightened.

“Recap, Brad,” he ordered.

Brad tapped keys and the screen listed each Plutonian ship in the Assault Force and its Commander in one column and the readiness level for launch in the other.

Brad pointed at the highlighted “Fleet readiness 92 percent.”

“Allies?”

“Made the trip from home stations along diverse routes and under detection wraps. They’re inside the comm-barrier an hour from Point Icarus. It’ll take us that long to launch, form up, do the distance, and position ourselves to receive them.”

A crewman’s head appeared at the head of the companionway, looked about and fixed on Drummer.

“Call from security up at the tunnel entrance, sir. Visitor to see you.”

“Who is it?”

“Major Scarf, sir. Says he has urgent business to discuss with you.”

Drummer and Brad exchanged glances. Hyk immediately gave his full attention to his monitor’s screen. Drummer knew that neither he nor Hyk could refuse Scarf’s request to come aboard. He addressed Hyk.

“Any objections, Har?”

“None, Admiral.”

“Very well,” Drummer glanced toward the messenger. “Escort Major Scarf to my quarters.”


The compartment was small, not built for comfort. Scarf’s massive frame crowded the space.

“I’m coming along.” Scarf’s tone was brusque.

“The hell you are.” Drummer’s was equally blunt.

Brad eyed Scarf. “Your job is on the surface,” he said. “What purpose can you serve by tagging along?”

Scarf looked from Drummer to Brad and back, not sure whom he should address. He chose Drummer.

“Coldfield and the surrounding areas are under full control of my security forces. I’ve left my deputy in charge, and he can contact me within seconds should that be necessary. With Narval away and us here, there’s not much going on in the Command Section.”

Scarf tapped Drummer’s chest with his forefinger, “you’ve got more’n a thousand of my best troops for occupation duty on the Terminals. They’re mine and I’m gonna lead them when they go into action. I’m moving in over my on-site troop commander, that’s all. What’s more, I understand you’ve reassigned some of my troops to this wagon. That’s fine with me. I’ll just move in with them, and assume direct command until they’re back with the main group. Entirely proper for me to do this as chief of their Service.”

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