First up I would strongly suggest that if you haven't read the earlier chapters please do so before reading this one, it will explain a lot of things...
Now, enjoy. BB1212
*****
"Tilley, its Josh, are you there?"
"Josh, is it really you?" Tilley sounded excited to hear from me, and I thought that was a first.
Tilley was my 2IC, and professionally she absolutely deserved the role. She was a damn good leader, and her understanding of military strategy was second to none. Socially Tilley really didn't like me or my lifestyle, and she had spent her entire first interview telling me so. She was quite stunned when she was brought back for a second interview, and at that time I told her she needed to concentrate on the job, not the reputation of the person in command. We found out we could work together professionally, but I knew it still grated with her that I was fucking so many of the women on base.
"The one and only," I replied, and I grinned.
"How are you? Where are you? Damn it Josh, we thought you were dead."
"Slow down Tilley," I said, smiling. "How am I? Pretty darn good for a guy who has just entered the atmosphere in a flight suit. Where am I? Just over a day from Miami on a private yacht, and no, as far as I can tell I am not dead."
"Definitely not dead," Sammy muttered in the background.
"Tilley," I said quickly before she could think of more questions, "what's the situation with the YW's, and is there any word from Neale?"
"All of the YW's in our city have retreated to a shopping centre at the moment. We think there are about a hundred of them left. They have one aircraft there, but haven't used it for a couple of days. They are not attacking us at all any more, but will still kill in defence if they can. In other cities the situation is similar, except for the aircraft."
"Uh huh," I really wanted to hear how that had come about, but I knew I would catch up soon and I wanted to be able to ask questions that shouldn't be asked over a communicator, no matter how certain we were that the YW's weren't listening any more.
"There's been no word from Neale, but both of your missions were successful. We were really worried about both of you. Damn it Josh, it was a really stupid idea but it saved us." I was really worried about Neale too, but there would be time to do more about that later.
"What's next, and can it wait for me?" I asked, still not wanting to be too specific.
"Got some plans," Tilley said, "when can you get back?"
"How soon can you get a hoverjet out here?" I asked, and I gave her our coordinates, heading and speed.
"Sixty to ninety?" she said.
"Sounds good," I replied, "let me know when they are ten away and I'll dive and we will make it a sea pickup."
"OK Josh, and it really is good to have you back." Tilley disconnected.
"We've got what, an hour?" Sammy asked suggestively.
"I'm just going to the head," Wasme muttered with a wry grin, "I'll be quite a while."
"Thanks Wasme, for everything," I said, "and if ever you need a favour I owe you one." She nodded, raised an eyebrow suggestively at Sammy, smiled warmly at me and left. I liked Wasme. A lot.
The pickup by the hoverjet went as planned, and in less than three hours I was back at Hinchlet and in a dry uniform. There was absolutely no indication any more of how badly injured I had been just hours earlier.
"So," I said to Tilley as we sat at the meeting table in my office, "how did we get to where we are?"
"By accident really," Tilley said grinning wryly, "it was your friend Keisha."
"Keisha?" I was confused, even though she was living with me and we had talked seriously about it, she still hadn't re-joined the Intergalactic Navy. So she shouldn't have been involved at all.
"Yes Josh," Tilley said, "I know it's strange, but she went to talk to the first survivor, and he, er, recognised her.
"Oh damn." I said. Because my experience had been different I had just assumed the YW's had stopped using the Keisha experience on their captives. They obviously hadn't.
"Yes," Tilley agreed, "she was very upset and decided to do something about it. She went and bought a Freidrich Lightning from a military antique shop."
"You can still get them?" I asked in wonder. The Freidrich Lightning had been the American weapon of choice in the early stages of the third world war. It was the last mass production gunpowder and projectile combination before the invention of energy weapons, and it had been cutting edge back in the day.
"Yes, apparently all the re-enactment societies still want them, so there is quite a market. Anyway, there is no restriction on sale because the blockers on the general population mean they can't use them to cause harm to people."
"How did she know how to use it?" I asked, and Tilley grinned.
'Keisha told me there was simulator on the Mayflower," Tilley said, and a vague memory stirred. I had heard about it at the time, but I hadn't tried it myself. "Apparently, Keisha spent a lot time in it, and it was very realistic. She told me that the simulator weapons are exactly the same as using the real thing."
I nodded.
"So anyway, Keisha snapped and decided to try and take out a YW as personal revenge," Tilley continued. "She found a group of three and she winged one with her first shot. Because it was in pain the others were disabled and she took out all three before they could retaliate."
"Wow," I said, impressed, but also wondering why we hadn't thought to try that earlier. In our frantic hunt for new weapons we had totally ignored the potential of the old ones.
"Yes, so she got on to Bira straight away and told her. We commandeered every Freidrich Lightning we could find yesterday, and enlisted every person who could use one, and then we sent them all out hunting. Our people hit the streets just after you and Neale took out the mother ships, and all of the YW's were already dazed. The plan was immediately effective and it looks like they are on the run everywhere."
"Are they fighting back with anything?" I asked.
"They still kill anyone they find at close quarters, but there is no attempt at, er, sex any more. At the shopping centre here they have tried at least three times to get to the aircraft but Keisha and three others are covering that, and they have managed to keep them away so far." I remembered the tumbler.
"We absolutely have to stop them getting to that, those ships are well armed." I said.
"How bad is it though?" Tilley asked, "You took out a few of them with an unarmed Stellar didn't you?
"I was very lucky, their bombs are extremely dangerous, and on top of that we really need to get some of their technology to our scientists and see what we can learn."
"What next then boss?" Tilley asked.
"Get every gun you can, and all of the MS units too. We can set them up at every exit so we have a known range. We'll burn them out if we have to." Tilley nodded grimly, she had seen what the YW's were doing, she had heard what they had done, and she wasn't going to waste any sympathy on them.
I heard the chattering of the trapped YW's as I approached the shopping centre, first as a background murmur, and then as individual voices. They were getting more and more excited as I approached, but quietened down a bit when I stopped at my station.
I had originally decided I wouldn't be there at final strike, because I thought the YW's might still be able to track me, and then I had changed my mind and decided that I had to go because of my proficiency with the MS. We needed every good operator we had available. Then I had thought I would turn off my communicator so they couldn't detect me, but then how could I listen to what they were saying? I had only told a couple of my most senior officers that I could 'hear' telepathically now, and I had sworn them to secrecy, but in this situation, even though the YW's could still detect my presence, my understanding of their messages paid off immediately.
"Scabbard is at the south west corner, I need twenty volunteers..." There was a frantic clamouring.
"The rest of you stay here to storm the fighter as planned," was the next clear message.
"Four rifles and two more MS units to me immediately," I said into my communicator, "all other locations send half of your number to help defend the aircraft."
There was a general acknowledgement as our resources started to move.
"Scabbard has sent them to where we will attack Sir," a panicked telepathic thought called out.
"Attack in five," another frantic message said, "four..."
"Three seconds to action," I said, and I concentrated on the door facing me. There were only two of us there, me with the MS and an Ensign with a rifle. The reinforcements I had requested would be too late.
"Twenty of them coming out now Ensign," I said, and the door opened and YW's streamed out.
I hit the leading one with a perfect thought triggered shot, and it exploded spectacularly, the Ensign shot another and it fell down dead. My next shot maimed another, and this didn't slow their advance down at all. They must have realised that their sympathetic reaction was costing their lives and somehow disabled it.
We got another three, but then the nearest was too close for my range.