Kate was locked up in a VIP room, as the OBF2 team sent their signal through to homebase from Ahmadeus. Their shift had finished, and it was time for the next team to take over and monitor the Trimadian Locum situation.
Things were heating up according to the secret transmitted codes conveyed to Sataal’s men. It also seemed the bulk of the Locum fleet was bearing closer to the Quelain Galaxy. Ahmadeus was preparing for the worst.
Over the past couple of months, with a solid alliance from Earth, the Cantals were stocking up with a variety of weaponry. Hand blasters, death lasers, dell bricks–grenades but with three separate explosions for mass impact–good in open field warfare, along with some good old fashioned nukes and conventional weaponry. “Nothing like an M-16 to make you the man,” Tremaine would declare.
Ironically, a great majority of these weapons were contracted for the US military and ended up going to Divisions’ stockpiles.
Modified versions of the F-111s and B-2 Spirited stealth bombers could be flown into deep space. Sataal’s force field technologies rendered all frequencies and radiation emissions virtually invisible, thanks to crytaalic hulls combined with a crystal dampener agent applied to the field when activated. If any enemy sensor or scan was directed at the cloaked ship, it appeared to be empty space—as long as the enemy ship did not head directly into the cloaked ship’s path.
They had an assortment of enhanced conventional hardware like the M16s and AK47s, the Uzi, Gatling, and Sten machine guns. All these could be used with ease whether in atmosphere or space. Mortars for ground control and laser bazookas for enemies in the sky were, in Tremaine’s concise words “cool.” They were built lightweight, with all the comforts of laser tracking, low and high-level frequency pick-ups, built-in multi-linguistic communication scan devices, and GPS. “You just wouldn’t leave the planet without one,” Tremaine would continually joke. The collective power of the S.U.E.P. seemed to have virtual unlimited source and funds.
The Cantals had their own weaponry, but stocks were now very much depleted thanks to the Trimadian skirmishes. The Cathexistomes’ evolution of technology and their sheer numbers had backed the few free Cantals into a corner. Sataal knew if it were not for the human’s discovery of Ahmadeus, the free Cantals would have become extinct. It had occurred to the OBF team to question why the Trimadians held back from bringing in their forces and wiping out the Cantal rebels completely.
“I don’t think they take us seriously, or more like, they are toying with us, wearing us down over time. Remember, warfare tactics to them is also very much psychological.” Sataal would state, “If they wanted to, they could have simply turned this land into desert. To date, they have never come close to discovering our headquarters.”
“Yeah,” stated Tremaine, “did it ever occur to you that they have deliberately left it alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let me put it this way, do you trust all your men?”
“Implicitly!” Sataal’s eyes blazed at the insinuation.
“Fine, sorry.” Tremaine shrugged his shoulders and left it there. Besides, he had seen Sataal’s temper and, being almost a foot taller than him, who was he to argue?
However, the Locum was considered everyone’s enemy and they seemed to lack predictable battle tactics. Tremaine had described them as pit bulls–once they latch on, they will not let go–which was the only predictable thing. The human powers that be from Graffa knew enough to realize this. Having off world battle stations was now imperative. Just keeping the Locum from entering Earth’s galaxy was one thing. It was also only a matter of time before the BSP was compromised. Battle looked like the only one true answer, but the cost was going to be high. Knowing one’s enemy, their strengths, weaknesses, reactions, weapon ability, etc, was imperative before taking them on. But to plan strategies for an unknown enemy–the thought sent shudders.
Only six percent of the modest collection of almost fourteen thousand off world sequences had a breathable atmosphere to support humankind. If it came down to it, Divisions would have to evacuate their list of “select personalities” from Earth to one or more of these worlds, but that would take time, which would be too short. It would also mean Divisions’ full disclosure to the world’s governing super powers. Would politics get in the way? Probably, but by then they could all be dead, or worse.
With help from their alien counterparts, they had reverse engineered space planes that could accommodate several dozen, but obviously they would not be enough. The problem would have to be nipped in the bud with the enemy being met head on. It was now a question of when.
All these thoughts were going through Pilcher’s mind as he sat alone in his office. Conventional air traffic controllers were known to have stressful jobs–pah! At times, he would swap that any day for some of the decisions he had to make.
Now he was facing an anomaly thrown into his lap–Kate Willard and what to do with her. He knew his boss would want her put through rigorous tests. Including and not limited to strenuous mental, psychological, and physical. The mandatory blood analysis, DNA, MIR and body scans. But would she be willing?
He could not fathom her, apart from having a pissed off attitude. He had reassured her that if she stayed as their guest for the next week, they might be able to present her with some answers, but she would need to be patient, and reasonably cooperative. She had agreed.
God, could she be a new enemy or a trick by the Locum or Trimadians?
Pilcher was not a pessimist, but he hated anomalies. Twenty-five years as top brass in the military pitted him, at times, against unusual situations that he could control to a degree. Now, as head of this private sector, this situation, no one had any experience. Kate would be treated like a normal civilian, but she would be under a weighty microscope. He felt a bit sorry for her.