John Ringo - East of the Sun, West of the Moon

“I want,” Massa said, grinning.

“We’ll see how many there are,” Bus said, nodding. “That’s it for now. Each of you will be issued your maces and start training with them this week. As soon as we have suits, and the first in fighters are first in line, we’ll start training in the water tank.”

“How’s it shaping up?” the avatar of Edmund asked.

“Pretty good,” Herzer admitted. “We’ve been retraining on the new weapons and that’s going well on the grav training level anyway. The engineering teams are pretty well as dialed in as they can be without the actual equipment. Same with the computer techs. The pilots are pretty caustic about their training equipment, but they’ve learned where all the controls are, anyway. We’ll have to see if they can actually fly. And everybody has to go in the water as soon as the suits are done.”

“That should be interesting,” Edmund said, smiling. “Tao is on the way over with a courier package. You and Megan should find it interesting.”

“I look forward to it,” Herzer said, frowning.

“You asked for intel,” the council member said, shrugging. “You got intel.”

“Sir,” Lieutenant Tao said, setting a courier bag on Herzer’s desk.

“Thanks, Tao,” Herzer said, picking up the pouch and breaking the seals.

Gerson Tao was nearly as large as the commander and, if anything, darker, with slight epicanthic folds by his eyes and lank black hair. He’d been born and raised on the Western Plains and was a noted horseman. He and Herzer had met when Herzer was his instructor at Officer Basic course and had tapped him, along with Amosis Van Krief and Destrang, to accompany Duke Edmund on a “diplomatic mission” to the southern isles. The diplomatic mission had gone badly awry but the then ensign had stuck to his salt on the long ride Edmund had sent him on to bring the cavalry. He wasn’t the brightest of the three, but he was tough and stubborn. Give him a task and he’d keep battering away at it until something gave.

“I need you to do me a favor,” Herzer said, extracting the heavy linen envelope in the pouch and tossing it back. “Shanea has to go back to Washan. Actually, she doesn’t have to go back, but she deserves a break. I don’t suppose you’re into shopping?”

“Oh, God,” Tao groaned. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“Just show her around town,” Herzer said, grinning. “Get a squad of guards and a carriage. Charge both to Megan’s accounts. Make sure she doesn’t get snatched.”

“Will do, sir,” the lieutenant said, sighing. “Is there going to be a point where I’m not in charge of the baggage, sir? I was enjoying being with Second Legion.”

“Soon, Tao,” Herzer said, grinning. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, sir,” Tao said. “Now?”

“If you would,” Herzer replied, glancing out the window. “Plenty of time. Catch some lunch with her in Washan, and probably dinner. Just get back here before nine or ten. If you’re out later, stay at the councilwoman’s quarters and send back word.”

“Is this a mission or a date?” Tao asked, grumpily.

“Make up your own mind,” Herzer replied, raising an eyebrow to Tao’s frown.

“You’re serious?” Tao asked, raising his own eyebrow.

“If you screw her up somehow, you’ll probably have to explain that to Megan,” Herzer said, frowning in turn. “And I’ll warn you that if you wrap your heart around that little minx, it’s going to get repeatedly broken. But if one thing leads to another, nobody’s going to complain.”

“Oh,” Tao said, suddenly reconsidering the quality of the mission. “Very well, sir.”

“And check on Destrang,” Herzer said. “He’s supposed to be passing this stuff to me, not you.”

“Yes, sir,” Tao said, nodding. “If that’s all.”

“Get,” Herzer said, finally grinning. “Have fun.”

“I’ll… try,” Tao admitted.

When the lieutenant was out of the office, Herzer used a knife to slit the envelope and dumped the contents out on the desktop. There were two inner envelopes, unsealed, one with diagrams and the other containing a long, handwritten, note.

He looked at the first diagram and grunted in surprise.

“Orderly!” he yelled at the door.

“Sir?” a Blood Lord private asked, opening the door as Herzer hastily covered the diagrams with the outer envelope.

“Get Councilwoman Travante, Evan Mayerle and… hmm…” He lifted up the envelope for consideration and then shrugged. “And Captain Van Buskirk. There’s something they need to see.”

“Now that is the… most bizarre space suit I’ve ever seen,” Van Buskirk said, flipping through the diagrams.

“It’s very functional,” Evan said musingly. “It’s apparently based upon an ancient diving suit.”

Herzer wasn’t sure where Megan’s dad had gotten the diagrams for the orc armor but they were complete drawings, obviously copies of the design documents. The body of the suit was, essentially, a cylinder. The entire top could be removed with bolts and the helmet was another cylinder with circular viewports out of the front and sides. The arms and legs were what was interesting, though. Each of the joints had some sort of armature on it.

“What is that?” Herzer asked, pointing at an arm joint.

“Apparently it’s attached to an oil-filled piston,” Evan said, flipping over one of the diagrams and pointing to a close-up of the joint. “It maintains smooth movement even in vacuum. Ingenious design.”

“Those things are going to be hard to penetrate,” Van Buskirk pointed out. “Even with the maces. I’m not sure the punch will work at all.”

“Don’t be,” Evan said, pointing to a notation on the diagram. “That’s eighteen-gauge steel. It has to be for weight reasons. Use heavy steel on those things and they’d weigh in at about a ton. Penetrating them is going to be easy .”

“And in vacuum that will matter,” Bus said, shaking his head. “In atmosphere, they’re going to be a bitch. The body of the orc isn’t going to be anywhere near the surface of the armor.”

“I don’t think we’re going to have problems,” Herzer said, considering the design carefully. “Whoever thought this suit up was an idiot.”

“Why?” Megan asked. “They look pretty tough to me.”

“Look at those joints,” Herzer said, grinning. “One hit on those things and you’re going to have a frozen joint. The documents said that they’re mostly going to be armed with polearms. Two polearms to one pick-axe or military hammer and each will have a heavy knife, more like a chisel really. But we’ve got other problems.” He waved the text documents and frowned.

“What?” Megan asked.

“There’s going to be one of those Changed elves with them,” Herzer said, still frowning. “That right there will be a nightmare. But they’re also going to be using some sort of scorpionoid. The document states that it will be different from the variety that attacked us but in an unknown way. Just ‘different.’ ”

“Modified for vacuum?” Van Buskirk mused. “Can Celine do that?”

“Probably,” Evan said. “The ones that were killed here and in Washan had carbon polymer plates. You could probably seal them against vacuum. But one good hit and they’ll be squirting ichor.”

“This mission is really gonna suck,” Bus said, sighing.

“That it will,” Herzer admitted.

“Have you worked out the teams, yet?” the captain asked, changing the subject.

“Yep,” Herzer said. “And you’re going to like them. The suits are going to be done day after tomorrow. At that point, we’ll start training on microgravity. I’ll announce the teams tomorrow at dinner.”