Repercussions

by M. D. Cooper

 

  Geoff was listening to Mal while grabbing the sensor unit and moving it so that Mal could observe what was happening a few hundred meters away from their ship.

  “Shit. What are the chances they picked up the signal?”

 

  “We have to let them know something is up! We have to warn them! Can you see the OG soldiers?”

 

  “Mal, they’re going to be in the kill box in less than thirty seconds.”

  Geoff was running around the bridge, desperately looking for something he could use to signal the shuttle. All the handheld lights were dead, he found no chemical glowsticks…hell, there wasn’t even a bright piece of cloth they could wave in the window.

  He moved next to the sensor unit, placing his hand on the outside of the case. He couldn’t feel Mal, but this was the closest he could get. They stood like that as they watched the shuttle approach their stranded tug.

  They watched as the Orion Guard launched one last assault, while they were powerless to do anything about it.

  THE WAIT

  STELLAR DATE 04.06.8948 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: ISS SO211A

  REGION: Orion Guard Debris Field, New Canaan System

  There were eight Orion Guard soldiers who sprang from cover and began the assault on the shuttle. They attacked four to a side, hitting the airlocks simultaneously. Geoff watched helplessly as the airlocks were breached, seeing dual plumes of white vapor erupt from the sides of the ship. As soon as they dissipated, the soldiers were gone from sight once more.

  “That crew doesn’t stand a chance.”

 

  No sooner had Mal finished his statement, when three soldiers sprang from the side of the shuttle, heading toward the partially destroyed command center. As they crossed Mal’s field of view, he enhanced their images, getting a good look at the markings on their gear.

  he practically shouted over the Link.

  “What?”

  Geoff stood up, trying to get a better view of the Marines. As he did, he saw three more head toward the engineering section, and two more move for the shuttle.

 

  In the zero gravity bridge of the ship, Geoff managed to fall to his knees as the message came over his Link. He could see the two Marines clearly outside of the windows, and tears of joy ran down his face.

 

 

  Geoff knew Mal was impatient to leave, but he hoped the AI trusted in him.

 

 

  For the first time in hours, Geoff was finally able to relax aboard the tug. They weren’t out of there yet, but they were a hell of a lot closer to it.

  “Mal, an AI case has an onboard sensor package. You’re never going back to that cold, dark place again as long as I am around.”

 

  True to their word, the Marines and the S&R team were able to get Mal and Geoff off their tug and on their way back home in less than ten minutes. The tug would be left in place for now, and Geoff thought it was funny that they’d spent days clearing out pieces of junk, just to add one more piece of it as they left.

  “Lieutenant,” Geoff called out as the Marine from the window walked by. “How the hell did you know there was going to be an ambush?”

  “We didn’t,” The Marine smirked at Geoff. “But these OG fuckers have started fighting back. Took a few ships by surprise, but weren’t able to get too far with them. Boss thinks these assholes are going to keep trying to get our tech if it’s the last thing they do.”

  Geoff looked down at the crate containing Mal’s core. “You weren’t too far off, buddy. Nice work!”

  “Standard orders now are that any suspicious incidents are to be investigated by an armed shuttle with Marines onboard. We scanned the shit out of your area, but didn’t see a thing besides your tug. So it looked pretty suspicious, the way you all were sitting there rotating. When we picked up the outgassing from your vessel, we decided to go in and see if we could spring the trap. We knew they wanted the ships intact, so they wouldn’t risk blowing us up. We just sat over there and let them come to us. Too fucking easy, if you ask me, but still a shitload of fun.”

  “Thanks again for coming for us. We saw one of the OG soldiers out there after we took a hit, and tried to send a message off—that was the outgassing you saw. I’m sure as hell glad you all are OK. When we saw those OGs hit the shuttle, we thought everyone onboard was as good as dead.”

  “We’re Marines. We’re always pretty fucking OK,” the lieutenant said as he lightly punched Geoff on the shoulder. Then he walked away.

 

 

  It didn’t go unnoticed by Mal that this was the first time Geoff had used the Link to speak with him.

 

  “I figured that would be the last thing you would want to do.”

 

 

 

 

  “What’s the mission, and where’s it going?”

 

  THE END

  ABOUT JOE KOCSIS

  Joe spent 12 years in the Marine Corps, reaching the rank of Staff Sergeant, and had multiple combat deployments overseas, including the initial invasion of Iraq. Upon returning home, he rediscovered a creative side that had long lain dormant and released it with reckless abandon. His love of the Science Fiction genre initially drew him to writing, and drawing on his experiences all over the world gives him a unique perspective.

  Since leaving active duty, he’s settled outside of his hometown of Cleveland, Ohio and lives a quiet life in the country as a software engineer with his 12-year-old Boxer, Muzay

  KATRINA

  VIS-À-VIS KATRINA

  BY PENNY BROWN

  FROM THE AUTHOR

  If you have read Bu
ilding Victoria, then you know Katrina. She is from the imagination of our fearless leader, M. D. Cooper. I read the Warlord trilogy and wondered what would happen next, but there is not a book four…yet. It is amazing to me that I have this opportunity to share what I imagine happened after Troy saved her from the vacuum of space. And that is as close to a spoiler as I will go. If you have not already, you must give the trilogy a read.

  Katrina’s mantra is the inspiration for my story. She goes through so much and still manages to keep everything in tidy compartments in her mind. But what if those compartments refused to remain tidy? What then? We must all face our private demons at some point in our lives; for Katrina, that point is right now.

  Penny Brown

  M. D. Cooper’s Note:

  Katrina is a favorite character of mine, and of Penny’s too, as it turns out. When I spoke with her about writing a story for Aeon 14, she made a very convincing argument to give a view into what happened to Katrina in the years following her brief tenure as the Warlord of Midditerra.

  This is still just the start of Katrina’s five-hundred-year-long wait for the Intrepid to arrive, and she’s doing her best to put the screws to the people who have wronged her in the meantime.

  If you’ve not read the Warlord books, you may want to do so first, but if you’ve read Building Victoria, you’ll remember Katrina as the Sirian spy who sided with Markus and the Noctus, eventually leaving Sirius with them and ultimately becoming the governor of the Kapteyn’s Star colony.

  That is, until she went searching for the lost Intrepid.

  PARTINGS

  STELLAR DATE: 02.17.8512 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: Voyager

  REGION: Beyond Midditerra’s Heliopause

  Katrina stood near the door between the main cargo bay and the corridor leading back into the ship. In front of her stood a small group representing the crews of the five MDF ships, eight canton frigates, the Voyager, Castigation, and the Verisimilitude.

  Captain Jordan stood on her left, while Norm was on her right. Katrina wore a shipsuit displaying the Intrepid’s logo and—with the intention to distance herself from her Warlord persona—she was unarmed. She felt naked and exposed to everyone. The initial euphoria of having real skin again was fading, and somehow in this moment, it was too revealing, too vulnerable.

  Have I become so reliant on a bulletproof body that I’m unable to trust the people facing me now?

  Troy said over the command net.

  Norm chimed in,

  Jordan’s laughing avatar came into Katrina’s mind, and she shook her head, feeling herself relax—which had been Troy’s intention.

  The assembled personnel watched her openly and murmured to each other.

  Katrina knew they had expected to see her hardened, aged face and streaked silver hair, the long coat and gun belt, the dull shine of her multi-colored, metal skin. It was obvious they were surprised and caught off guard by the Warlord’s very un-warlord-like appearance.

  She gave them time to take her in as she truly was: a young woman with red hair trailing down her back and deep green eyes that met their own without hesitation or apology.

  Turning to Norm, she asked quietly, “Is the fleetwide comm open?”

  He nodded, meeting her eyes with a troubled look. “Lady Katrina, are you sure you want to do this?”

  Placing a hand on his arm, she whispered, “It is, finally, the right thing to do—and stop calling me ‘Lady Katrina’. I am Katrina; just Katrina.”

  For a moment, Norm looked as if he would argue, but nodded and looked back to the small group in front of them.

  Jordan leaned sideways and whispered, “Not ‘just Katrina’; you are the captain of the Voyager, you know. I won’t have my crew calling me ‘just Jordan’, so let’s not start a trend, if you please.”

  Katrina turned her head and saw the humor in Jordan’s eyes.

  “You are such a cheeky bitch,” she whispered back.

  Then she made a small movement to square her feet on the deck and raised her hands palm outward for silence. She took a deep breath and began to speak to the room.

  “Thank you for making the trip from your ship to the Voyager to represent your fellow crewmembers. I know an in-person meeting is not normal.” She placed a gentle hand on the top of a small, blue, glowing, tetrahedron-shaped crystal on a grav pad in front of her.

  Demy had fab’d one for each ship in the fleet. Everyone except Katrina had been given a moment to either impress a sound on the surface or place an object within the crystals, which were then sealed. The idea and description had come from Rama, and that had made Katrina wonder where Rama had come from to know such an ancient ritual.

  “We will memorialize the dead and leave them here, free from both our past and future."

  It was all she could think to say.

  Leaning forward to whisper into the blue glow, Katrina softly said, “Juasa, my lover and my friend.”

  The crystal glowed briefly, and the sound quietly came back like water, “Juasa, my lover and friend.”

  Then, with tears in her eyes, Katrina gestured to Carl to take the crystal and place it in a long capsule with the others and seal the clear cover.

  The capsule was placed with care at the edge of the bay’s ES shield, and everyone watched silently as Troy carefully pulled back the field until the capsule floated freely and began to move away from the Voyager, where it drifted amidst the fleet. Every holo tank and view screen on every ship would be watching that tiny object as the slowly accelerating fleet left it behind.

  When the capsule was so small the human eye could no longer perceive it, Norm cleared his throat, and Katrina stepped forward.

  She raised her voice and spoke with the tone of command. “I also wanted you to be here to bear witness that I am Katrina…. No longer the Warlord.” She couldn’t just tell them a ball of light had melted and regrown her skin just before she was propelled out of an airlock, so she simply said, “This is truly me,” while making a sweeping gesture with her hands from shoulder to hip.

  A loud murmur began, but Norm stepped forward and fiercely told them all, “Pipe down! You want to know what comes next, you need to listen!”

  An uneasy hush fell across the bay, and Katrina looked at a control panel on the bulkhead to be sure the fleetwide comm still showed green. Then she continued.

  “Each of you must choose whether you wish to go back to Midditerra, or stay with Cavalry One. This time, each individual must make their own decision; do not simply follow your captain. If you elect to stay, I am who you are choosing to follow. The ships in this fleet are mine, and I will be selecting which will be sent back to Farsa Station. If you wish to return, there will be no recrimination or consequence. You will simply be transferred and allowed to return in peace. Though the Bollers are defeated, we have lost the battle for the Midditerra System, and I will be leaving with no plan to return…ever.

  “Enough has been lost for no good purpose, and if President Armis can truly create a fair democracy with systems such as Bollam’s World nearby, she is a better ruler than I would ever be. This choice is being made now on every ship in the fleet.”

  Katrina half-turned to Norm. They had already discussed his choice to stay and her intention of keeping both the Verisimilitude and the Castigation.

  This was his cue, and he eyed the people in the bay without blinking, “I choose Katrina.”

  She grinned at him; Norm was not one to waste words.

  Over the ship’s communication net, Sam announced his own declaration.

  Following Sam, Jordan stepped forward. “I also choose Katrina…and the Castigation is staying; any crew choosing to leave will need to hitch a ride.”

  Katrina looked at Jordan with a jaundiced eye, and murmur
ed, “Don’t make it sound like treason.”

  The woman only raised an eyebrow. “That’s what it is to me. I won’t ever understand anyone who prefers to go back. Half of us weren’t even born here, and the other half has never been allowed to make a choice about anything until today.”

  Sam’s grumpy voice chimed in,

  Jordan simply replied with a sickly,

  Sam said with a slightly superior tone.

  Troy replied,

  Katrina shook her head, but smiled sadly. She agreed with them both.

  A young officer in the MDF stepped forward saying, “I have served the Midditerra Defense Force with loyalty all my life. My choice is to return to Farsa Station.”

  Everyone watched Katrina closely, but as she stepped forward, the young man did not flinch.

  She made a brief gesture of acceptance and simply said, “I wish you well. We will be transferring you to a ship for your return as soon as things are decided.”

  The young man nodded and walked away, toward the shuttle that brought him to the Voyager. Others followed, some choosing to return to Farsa, but to Katrina’s surprised pleasure, most elected to stay. As the reports came in from other ships, it was clear that a large majority agreed with Jordan and would remain.

  The last of the crew on the cargo deck came up to Katrina, an MDF captain, and he held out his hand—an act of trust, all things considered.

  “Lady Katrina…uh, Katrina, I am Captain Orring of the Kurgise frigate Turse. I will return to Persia and my family. I respectfully ask that my ship be among those to return the others.”