Obligations Read online

  Obligations

  Book Two of Murphy’s Lawless

  By

  Kevin Ikenberry

  PUBLISHED BY: Beyond Terra Press

  Copyright © 2020 Kevin Ikenberry

  All Rights Reserved

  * * * * *

  Get the free Four Horsemen prelude story “Shattered Crucible”

  and discover other Chris Kennedy Publishing titles at:

  https://chriskennedypublishing.com/

  * * * * *

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Dedication

  For My Girls.

  * * * * *

  Cover Design by J Caleb Design

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  Contents

  Dedication

  MISSION LOG

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  About Kevin Ikenberry

  The Caine Riordan Universe

  Excerpt from Book One of the Revelations Cycle:

  Excerpt from Book One of the Salvage Title Trilogy:

  Excerpt from Devil Calls the Tune:

  * * * * *

  MISSION LOG

  UPDATE, MISSION DAY 045

  MAJOR R.Y. MURPHY, CO, RECORDING

  SUMMARY AO DATA, 55 TAURI B 3 (R’Bak)

  LOCAL YEAR: 672 SR (Date coding note: SR stands for “Since Rev.” Origin of “SR” uncertain. Could refer to spaceside locals’ first official recording of years (i.e.; revolutions around the local star), the political revolts that compelled the SpinDogs to leave R’Bak, or the founding of their first rotational habitat, or ‘rohab.’)

  LOCAL DATE: Day 048 (of 369) (Time sync note: Local days are only 18 hours. Consequently, the local year of 369 days is actually only 75 percent the duration of one Earth year.

  EARTH DATE: August 30, 2125 AD

  PREOP / STRATEGIC SITREP (approximate):

  Increasing competition among powers in the primary system (Jrar) may have prompted several nations on the main planet (Kulsis) to move up the timetable on exploitation of R’Bak during the imminent Searing. First mission arrived in this system (secondary star, Shex) 18 months earlier than on any previous Searing. ELINT and SIGINT both indicate that the OpFor is from Kulsis’ second largest power, which has an entente/détente relationship with the greatest/oldest/traditionalist power.

  Due to OpFor’s early arrival at R’Bak, SpinDog and RockHounds (two different branches of the spaceside local population) had neither instituted full cessation of travel nor completed re-concealment of stationary assets. Many were compelled to go into hiding wherever they were, including various resource collection teams on the second planet, V’dyr, and one trade mission concluding business on R’Bak.

  MISSION DAY UPDATES

  000 Ship carrying Lost Soldiers (Dornaani hull Olsloov) arrives in system, scans, discovers SpinDogs on far side of local sun (Shex). Observes, decodes comms. Language is quickly identified as a devolved form of Ktor as it was spoken almost 1,400 years ago (approximation only). Despite linguistic roots, Olsloov command staff deems it unlikely that the SpinDogs would become aggressive or that they have had any recent contact with the Ktoran Sphere.

  001 Contact made by Olsloov command staff. Purpose: acquire consumables.

  002 No response, but Spin/Rock ships move to avoid further LoS/lascom messages. Pickets of harvesters/raiders notice movement of the previously undetected Spin/Rock craft, begin maneuvering at extremely high gee (often 2-3, sustained) to effect intercept. Terran cadre analyzes the situation; Olsloov selectively jams OpFor broad-comms. Only transmission completed by OpFor was decrypted as “Investigating local anomaly; stand by for details.” Narrow-beam comms blocked by position of companion star (Shex), which occluded receivers located in the primary (Jrar) system.

  003 Sensor results from Olsloov indicate that OpFor’s hi-gee maneuvers are consistent with a) intercept of SpinDog craft and b) repositioning to clear transmission coordinates to Jrar. Capt. Mara Lee, USAF, is restored from cryogenic suspension to assist in battlefield support and liaison duty with SpinDog matriarchy.

  004 Contact established with Spin/Rock leadership using Dornaani translation system to update language from classic Ktor and to crack cyphers. Agreement reached. Compromised Spin/Rock craft adjust course to flee toward prearranged coordinates in outer system. Intercept trajectory for OpFor intersects optimal ambush point for Olsloov and her drones/ROVs. Captain Lee receives partial accelerated training in local language via virtuality immersion.

  006 OpFor pursuit elements ambushed by Olsloov at edge of outer system. Tech superiority of Olsloov and her deployed assets results in complete elimination of enemy hulls without loss or significant damage. In and near R’Bak orbit, Dornaani ROVs (with direct oversight from Captain Lee) assist Spin/Rock assets to eliminate small number of OpFor hulls (mostly interface transports) and sensors. Dornaani standoff drones eliminate two planetside comm arrays with potential to reach Jrar system.

  007 Olsloov arrives on-station at R’Bak, conducts close survey for further planetside comm facilities with inter-system capability. None located. AARs generated and shared by Olsloov and Spin/Rock cadres.

  008 Data sharing and first meetings between Olsloov and Spin/Rock leadership. Mutual support and joint operation agreements reached. Captain Lee is debriefed by Olsloov cadre and resumes accelerated language training via virtuality technology.

  009 Transfer of volatiles and other consumables to Olsloov commences. Captain Lee completes accelerated language training.

  010 Data packets for tech sharing and replication of 20th century Earth weapons and systems relayed to and declared operational by Spin/Rock automated production facilities. Examples of each system are provided from legacy examples carried aboard Olsloov. Legacy examples include helicopters, weapons, ammunition, simple electronics. Captain Lee commences training of first class of SpinDog rotary wing pilots.

  013 Major RY Murphy restored from cryogenic suspension. Debrief commences.

  014 Major Murphy debrief ends. Light company of Lost Soldiers detached for R’Bak ops is revived.

  015 R’Bak ops contingent (Lost Soldiers) commences accelerated language training aboard Olsloov. Olsloov and seeded (permanent) microsat net detect upswing in movement by advanced vehicles on surface of R’Bak.

  016 First planetside training sorties of SpinDog RWP pilots led by Captain Lee. Planetside movement increase is confirmed as OpFor activity. Spin/Rock intel assessment is that they are gathering resources to secure optimum construction site for transmitter capable of reaching Jrar system.

  017 Guildmother/Matriarch of leading Spin/Rock Family reported to Olsloov as MIA planetside on R’Bak while conducting undisclosed SAR ops in north polar extents. Capt. Lee is cleared for, and tasked to, effect recovery of Guildmother/Matriarch, attached personnel, and others requiring rescue.

  018 Capt. Lee’s recovery mission achieves objective while sustaining moderate casualties, but Guildmother/Matriarch had been mortally wound
ed prior to her arrival in AO.

  019 Olsloov cadre, Lost Soldier CO Murphy, and SpinDog leadership agrees to conops of joint contact and recruitment mission to R’Bak. Objective: gather sufficient indigenous forces and commandeer cached Kulsis equipment to disrupt and prevent OpFor construction of dirtside inter-system comm array. Spaceside requirements articulated; assets identified. Preps begin. Construction of improvised meteoritic assault capsules commences, with limited assistance from Dornaani and contemporary Terrans. Mission leadership selected and briefed. Training commences.

  021 Lost Soldier R’Bak detachment completes language training, skills assessment, physical readiness conditioning, and is officially stood up as an active unit. Designation pending.

  022 Olsloov completes replenishment activities, prepares for departure. Training for joint mission to R’Bak concludes. Objectives and targets updated. Final briefing.

  023 Olsloov departs.

  024 Mission dropship commences op with tug boost toward R’Bak along retrograde orbital track.

  028 Orbital insertion successful. Joint mission under command of Lt. Harold Tapper confirmed as maneuvering to establish contacts with Sarmatchani nomads.

  036 SpinDog transport shuttles conduct high angle insertion to R’Bak north polar regions, followed by subsonic overland NOE flight to convey task force under Cpt. Hubert Moorefield to border of Hamain desert region in northern hemisphere. Cpt. Moorefield establishes and assumes command of Camp Stark FOB, proximal to anticipated rendezvous point with Lt. H. Trapper.

  045 Lt. H. Trapper’s coordinates and conducts successful Sarmatchani strike against elements of J’Stull satrapy. Mission-critical Kulsian vehicle cache, along with relevant operational supplies, taken and being convoyed to elements from Camp Stark.

  * * * * *

  Chapter One

  I can’t keep doing this, Bo. I love you, but you’re never here. I knew you’d be away a lot with the Army and everything, but when you’re home, you’re not here either. I can’t do it anymore. Please try to understand. Don’t come looking for me.

  Bo Moorefield folded the brittle, yellowed paper carefully and slipped it inside a plastic bag. After sealing it against both time and the elements, he tucked it into the angled pocket of the uniform blouse hanging beside his creaky bunk. That Sharron had written the letter over one hundred thirty years before didn’t dull the pain of that wound. Neither did the thought of her being long dead. Nothing helped. His careful romantic plans—to pick up Sharron’s favorite tulips, two bottles of her favorite champagne, and surprise her at her mother’s cabin on Lake Watauga in the Appalachian Mountains—never had a chance. She hadn’t wanted him to come for her, and fate had stepped in to ensure she got her wish.

  One moment, Bo had been in 1992, leaving Somalia on a UH-60 Blackhawk after having accused a Turkish general officer of cowardice. The next, he was waking in a sterile room next to a bored medical technician who told him that it was 2125, that he was light years from home, that there was intelligent life in the galaxy, and that some of it wanted him and the rest of humanity dead.

  After awakening six weeks ago with other “lost soldiers” hijacked from various wars in the twentieth century, Bo did spend some time wondering about Sharron’s reaction when she’d received the news that the Blackhawk had crashed with no sign of survivors. For a few seconds, he thought about the money she would have received from the Servicemembers’ Group Life Insurance policy he’d arranged: a cool $400,000. Because divorce proceedings hadn’t even started, there was little doubt she’d taken that check and smiled all the way to the bank.

  What was it Sergeant First Class Gleason had always said? Nothing moves as fast as a cavalryman’s paycheck in the hands of his spouse?

  Or was it to never, ever, let a woman fuck up your life?

  Bo snorted and rolled off the heavy, green sleeping bag and stretched before straightening his bunk. There was no one to inspect his quarters; no one would have seen him leave the bunk unmade. Still, it was a habit to make his bed and be sure that at least one thing would go right that day: finding his bed made at the end of it.

  He reached down and worked the leather straps of his roughed-out tanker boots through their buckles and tightened them. They weren’t his original boots, but they were reasonable facsimiles and just as comfortable to wear. In fact, almost everything seemed a bit more comfortable. For having slept over a hundred years, his body felt better than ever. But still: a hundred and fifty years and a whole life, lost in an eyeblink.

  Solace came in odd places, in simple things. Familiar boots. A squared away bunk. Divorce papers he’d never have to sign. A body mysteriously devoid of the nagging injuries he’d acquired living the life of a soldier. With a sigh, he reached for his uniform blouse out of habit. As he did, his left thumb rubbed the smoothed skin where his wedding band had been just a few short weeks—and more than a hundred years—before. He winced at the realization for the hundredth time, with a similar result.

  Fuck me.

  He pushed through the flaps of the Vietnam-era tent (General Purpose, Medium) and into a calm, cool morning of the desert tableland. The storms overnight had cleared, and the sky blazed with starlight. Given the mission underway, the small forward operating base was quiet, even at 0300. He moved down the slight incline toward the headquarters tent at the center of the small, oblong compound. Concealed by alien scrub brush, the base was tucked into the shadows of a shallow, rocky bowl, surrounded by low slopes that were eerily similar to those of eastern Africa. On the other hand, the air was totally without the humidity and stench of the cities that seemed to permeate miles in every direction. At its core, the small base reminded him of the UN compound outside Mogadishu. But instead of being filled with ineffective bureaucrats playing soldier in comical uniforms, there were actual soldiers around him for the first time in years. Uprooted from their own times, each had been believed killed or missing in action. But now they found themselves being moved about as pawns in a conflict much larger than themselves. What mattered were their shared experiences—past wars and present homelessness—and the mission at hand. All they had was each other, and to survive, they would have to stand together.

  While there were many nationalities represented among the Lost Soldiers—the name they’d adopted for themselves—Bo’s chain of command was simple. He was a captain and Major Murphy was his CO. Given that Murphy had already had their first mission roughed out by the time Bo awakened, there had been little for him to do except to observe, learn, and deploy from a hidden spaceside facility to the surface of this planet, R’Bak. The operation was almost unthinkable, and their situation dire, even though recent events had added a few glimmers of hope.

  But those glimmers were faint. The hard facts were that transportation assets were limited. The supplies of POL products—petroleum, oil, and lubricants—were critical to maintain and ration. What fuel there was went to the weapon systems first. They used trucks and other assets sparingly, if at all, to maintain stocks in case of some emergency or combat action. However, as if nature had decided to compensate for all the man-made shortages, they had plenty of local pack animals—whinaalani—which were able to serve in multiple roles. Bo tried not to think of them as lizards, but they looked like something out of the reptile display at the Iuka Mall back home except about twenty times the size of their counterparts on Earth.

  More precisely, the whinaalani resembled a mixture of an iguana and a Komodo dragon. From the tip of their tail to the rounded nose at the front of their triangular head, a typical whinaalani body was about three and half meters long and stood just over a meter tall at the saddle point between their four muscular legs. Wide, clawed feet gave them great traction for both climbing and digging. A long, strong tail gave them grace and balance. They’d evolved to suit peculiar weather cycles and climatic shifts and appeared to survive the periodic Sears by going far underground. They were the largest of the natural fauna observed in their area and they’d responded very well t
o the Lost Soldiers.

  Saddling them and riding them came even easier, much to Bo’s surprise. Raised on a farm in northeastern Mississippi, he’d ridden horses his entire life and discovered that the whinaalani not only took to being ridden more quickly and with less agitation than horses or mules, they seemed to enjoy carrying a rider on their strong backs. Still, without Bo’s accidental discovery of their other abilities, the whinnies would have been nothing more than a work-around for their transportation shortages, rather than an increasingly vital part of his unit’s table of organization and equipment.

  A herd of wild whinaalani always seemed to be near them. While they seemed every bit as disinterested in Bo’s indigenous allies as the whinnies already broken to the yoke, the untamed ones were genuinely curious about the Lost Soldiers. They often followed dismounted patrols at a distance and occasionally ran alongside any of the vehicles out for their short, routine maintenance rides.

  So when one of them followed Bo on a scouting hike a month before, he’d not given it much thought. He’d started hiking to clear his mind and try to make peace with Sharron for her decision, but before long, his interest had shifted to assessing the available supply of water. With the Sear approaching and ambient temperatures rising, the nearby lakes and streams were already starting to shrink and recede. He’d tried to locate signs of an aquifer or some persistent, potable water but Murphy’s orders were not to leave an area five kilometers from the base without security. Carrying a weapon wasn’t enough. There was far too much about their surrounding environment they didn’t know.