END of LINE: Humanities Last Stand - part 3 (16 page)

“You already have a call sign? Who named you Butcher?” Zeprik asked.

“Long story. End of story is an expert Engineer saw some of my metal work and started calling me that. Said she'd never seen anyone who used a plasma
cutter like me.” Jon didn't tell him it was Wrenches twisted sense of humor that gave him the name. She'd actually complimented him for his work, but still
called him a butcher because like a butcher makes clean cuts of meat, Jon had made clean plasma cuts in his ship's hull.

“ATTENTION ON DECK!” The overhead announcer called. “Transport Zetta 5 has docked and is now opening. All trainees take positions according to your rank
and position in preparation to board the vessel.”

“I guess that means us.” Zeprik said as he stood and offered his hand in a friendly expression. “Maybe I'll see you again.”

“One never knows.” Jon told him as he stood. Zeprik immediately knew who this other male was the second he stood. No one in the galaxy was that tall and
well muscled except one man. Zeprik had stumbled on the owner of BBITCo. The company that had gotten his sister home safely even when someone in the Palace
had wanted her dead. His sister had told him about the entire episode and how this male now towering in front of him had risked his own life to save the
lives of everyone onboard the FTL transport ship that day. Of course he would be buying combat ready ships. He was taking his company out to the rim
worlds where the pirates ran without any enforcers to stop them. Zeprik made up his mind to get to know this Jon Connell much better.

Boarding the transport was done quickly and with little in the way of talking. The transfer tubes opened, one near the forward area of the ship floating
outside the view ports and another nearer to the rear. Pilots where marched to the forward tube and loaded in single file while the infantry, or grubs as
they called themselves, loaded double file into the rear.

“This is so unfair” the male loaded in next to Zeprik complained. “Here I am, the son of one of the wealthiest of the lower Royals at the Summer Palace and
I'm stuck with this bunch, while that freak is made a pilot.”

“What are you bitching about now Helios?” another of the males asked.

“Did you see? They made that freak Connell a pilot! He should have been sent to the penal colony back in Haven system. My Sire paid good credits to have
charges brought against him for what he did! Is he sweating in some mining cave? NO. He's a pilot! And here I sit a grub. Why, because the Enforcer who
brought him to the Magistrate watched the tapes and filed his own charges against me! That freak must think that he's as important as his ancestor!”

“What did he do?” Zeprik asked.

“He assaulted me, in public. In front of the Crown Prince and Princess no less! The freak broke my nose right there in front of all of them at the
Reunification Day ceremony! My father paid over ten thousand credits to bribe the Magistrate! That sneaky human requested Option 3. The Magistrate claimed
he had no choice but to assign him to the Peacekeepers.” Helios almost screamed out with his face turning red from the anger inside him. “He never even
returned the credits! That Magistrate should be removed!”

Zeprik remembered that day well. He'd seen the whole thing happen. He had heard the insults this angry grub had flung at Connell's heart-mother and seen
Connell defend the tiny Lexonian female's honor. He was also the direct descendant of the original
Jon Connell
who had kept the Royal Family safe
for many cycles. Zeprik determined that he liked this male, Jon Connell, more and more with each new piece of information he learned. So here was the last
of the pureblood human beings going off to learn the techniques that his ancestor had taught and had proven to be effective in combat. No wonder Connell
was twice the size of the other males. He also decided that he did not like this angry grub seated beside him in the least. He did agree with one thing the
grub had said, the Magistrate would be removed as soon as he got home on his first leave.

As Jon entered the transport he handed his tablet to the officer who met them at the hatch. “I see you're already FTL certified. Take one of the seats in
the front row.” the officer ordered.

“Yes sir.” Jon responded as the male returned his tablet. Picking a seat next to a large male, Jon lifted his sword to let it lay across his lap then settled in for what he thought would be a long boring ride to their training camp. Looking around the cabin, he took in the rows of large, comfortable seats arranged with a center isle and plenty of legroom.
It was unusual for a military ship, Jon thought as he gazed at the overhead rows of different colored pipes and conduits running through the bulkheads with
their dull gray paint, to have what seemed to be luxury seating. He was stunned to find that the seats reclined and that a built in footrest was provided.
Even his favorite chair at home didn't have a footrest. He had a small bench that he used to prop up his long legs when he wanted to recline in that chair.
Soon it seemed that all of the pilots had boarded and taken seats as the chatter increased and became more the sound of white noise to Jon than that of
several voices speaking in hushed tones. The being that took the seat on Jon's other side was not your typical bi-pedal form. It had four legs and six
arms! Still it managed to fold itself into the seat without any apparent effort and even commented on how comfortable the seat was compared to the one it
had been forced into on the passenger vessel he'd flown on to get here.

“I wonder if we'll have seats like this on the birds we'll be assigned to fly?” the being commented. The words were slightly slurred as it tried to speak the standard language through its bird-like beak instead of a mouth. “Name's Pabki. Expert Navigator, and certified FTL pilot. I enjoy flying, but I love navigating. I can plot a slip directly into any planet's atmo from deep outside a system. I hope they let us choose.

“I'm Jarrieal” the male on Jon's other side told them. “I'm a top notch pilot. Got my certification when I was just nineteen cycles. Been flying small
pleasure craft for the rich folks on my home world of Libri. Its a heavy gravity planet. That's why I got all this muscle. Fat lot of good muscles do in
deep space where there is either zero gravity or Lexon standard inside a ship. The females seem to like them though, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Guess that leaves me.” Jon introduced himself, “Names Connell. Call sign Butcher. Haven is home for me. I've flown inter-system FTL ships since I was a
youngling of 16 with my uncle. Carried power crystals from our mining planets to the markets on Haven.”

“Haven power crystals? Those are the best in the galaxy. Everyone wants those but few can afford them.” Pabki told him.

“Just let me know and I'll bring you some of the small ones from home next time I'm there. Not a whole ship full, but a few of the smaller ones won't
bother anyone.” Jon told him. What he didn't tell him was that he owned many of the mines where the crystals came from. He could have gotten each of the
males a gem the size of a small shuttle and no one would complain. “I'm told they make great decorations for female jewelry.”

“Are you serious?” Jarrieal asked. “With a handfull of those I could win any female in six systems! Of course I want some! Back home a male can't even
think about having a mate unless he offers her Sire a suitable present first. I could have my pick of the most beautiful of our females with those
crystals.”

“If we manage to stay in touch after training, you can consider it a done deal.” Jon joked, “I'll have you married before you know it.”

“HOLD ON NOW! Who said anything about getting married? You better forget I said anything.” Jarrieal exclaimed and all three of them laughed. Jon found
himself already liking these two. At least he didn't feel like the lone stranger anymore. These two alone were so different from the people of Haven that he almost felt that he'd finally found asomeplace where he belonged.

Soon enough the hatches closed and locked, the trainees all heard the hissing of air as the ship began to compensate for the difference in pressure between
the station and the passenger areas and they slowly moved out from the docking tubes.

“Sit back and relax men. You are onboard the finest troop transport in the feet. My name is Captain Hijkoly and for the next few days I'll be going over
some of the introductory and integration info. It will take us three days to reach your homes for the next 6 Lexon II months. You may as well get used to
the idea that everything we do in the Peacekeepers is geared to Lexie time. A cycle is 400 days long, each day has 24 hours, and each hour has 70 minutes.
That will make some of you older than you thought you were and others will suddenly be cycles younger."

So it went on for the entire three day trip with the exception of the sleep times. The Captain made it a point to speak with each trainee in private so
when it came to be Jon's turn he started out with, “Its says here that you are both a certified FTL pilot and a Master Swordsman and a qualified sniper. Is
there anything you don't do Lieutenant?”

“Attract the females on my home planet.” Jon answered truthfully.

“What? Such a fine male as yourself? You're not into other males are you? the Captain asked.

“No sir. I'd have a hard time with them too back on Haven. Its because of my size. They all think I'm some kind of freak because my genes made me grow this
big and theirs didn't.” Jon responded. “Its ok though. I don't really need them.”

“What don't you need Lieutenant?” the Captain wanted to know.

“I don't need the males or the females from Haven to like me. I've learned that the females on other planets like me just fine.” Jon tossed him a half
smile. “Considering my business operates in space anyway, I won't need to go planetside very often.”

“Yes, I see here that you have controlling interest of BBITCo. According to the records that's a small transport company that mostly keeps busy in the
Haven system.”

“Yes sir, that's correct. We've also got three inter-planetary FTL freighters too.” Jon proudly told the man.

“Your not some spoiled brat kid whose father bought you a commission are you?”

“No sir. I've earned my certs. I only learned that I’d inherited the company after I graduated Peacekeeper basic.” Jon told him. “I grew up working the
shuttles with my uncle. That's how I got my license and later my FTL qualification. I earned the certs with a sword before I enlisted. I earned my sniper
cert in basic.”

“I'd like to see what you know about swordplay Lieutenant. It just so happens that we have another Master Swordsman onboard and plenty of room for a match
in the grub room. Interested?”

“My orders said not to bring personal items except for com badges and tablets. Where would we get practice swords?” Jon asked. Then drawing the one he was
wearing to show the Captain that his sword was indeed a real combat weapon he looked at the Captain and waited for his reply.

“The service will provide young male, the service always provides. So, you up for a match?” the Captain asked with a brightening smile.

“OK. Where and when?”

The next day, space was cleared in the cargo area and Jon was issued both a practice sword and armor. The sword was off balance and the armor didn't fit
very well, but at least it covered the important parts of his body. He stood at one side of a makeshift practice circle while a large male of another race
stood opposite him. The male was almost as tall as Jon. Both males made warm up motions and different moves with their swords getting a feel for how the armor fit and the swords acted in their hands. Finally the Captain came into the circle dressed in a black robe with a belt that carried the insignia of a swordsman. His many victories as
well as his ranking within the sword fighting community were clearly displayed on his belt. The Captain was two steps lower in rank than Jon. Jon had
earned gold edging for his own black robe that was still neatly folded on his dresser at home.

“Trainees, we are honored to have with us two Master Swordsmen on this trip who have agreed to give us a demonstration of their skills. On my left is Lt.
Jon Connell. On my right is Lt. Mopie. Contestants to center.” The Captain barked and Jon moved to meet Mopie. When they were less than three steps apart
each male stopped and bowed deeply to the other, then stood back and drew their swords allowing them to cross between them. Then they stood in that
position, each male taking stock of his opponent until the Captain shouted out, “FIGHT!” Then the real fun began as each male made a series of precise
movements with their swords in rapid fire strikes and blows.

Moving around in the circle and making more aggressive movements in their blows, strikes, and stabs along with their defensive moves as the fight continued
for over thirty long minutes. Neither male managed to strike a scoring blow to the others armor. Both of them were rapidly becoming winded and breathing
was becoming more and more difficult. Jon knew that if one of them did not score a blow soon, both would be totally out of breath. His opponent was good.
No one had ever fought Jon to a stand off before. This Mopie fellow was going to best him unless Jon did something unexpected.

Taking several quick steps back and away from Mopie, Jon raised his arms out to his sides and stood for just the fraction of a second it took for Mopie to
make his move trying to strike Jon's outstretched sword arm. Mopie's swing sliced through clear air as Jon spun quickly and made one fatal cut through
Mopie's neckline. Had this been a real fight, using actual swords, Mopie would be dead now with his head rolling on the ground and his body laying in a
twisted heap at Jon's feet. Instead he was simply embarrassed as he lay on the floor gasping for air with Jon on his knees beside him, also gasping.

The roars and cheering of the gathered trainees around them was deafening when the Captain came over to them. “Are you two both OK?” he asked. “That was
stimulating to watch. You are both Masters indeed.”