by M. D. Cooper
Ashley turned in her seat, her grey eyes meeting his. “You do get what’s happening, right, sir?”
Vargo nodded. He had a basic understanding of the technology used in jump gates, though the ISF wasn’t sharing the details. “Sure. They use antimatter to create some form of exotic energy, and focus that at a single point, and then when the ship’s mirror reflects that energy, we jump. Boom.”
“Yeah, but they’re wormholes,” Ashley pressed. “And a wormhole is really just the event horizon of a black hole.”
“Which is why no one uses them,” Vargo corrected her. “Because if the ship passed through the event horizon of a black hole, we’d all die—or whatever.”
Her unblinking grey eyes remained fixed on him as she nodded. “You’re not wrong, captain. The inventors of these gates worked a way around that. Instead of going through the event horizon, they stretch it.”
Vargo considered that for a moment. “So…that roiling black thing is a miniature black hole?”
“Sort of…it’s massless—at least that’s what our instruments say.”
“I wonder what their safety record is,” he muttered as he pulled up the scan readings of the Epsilon ‘System’ and sent them to the main display. “In other news, that’s a shit-ton of ships.”
Ashley nodded vigorously. “I tell ya, I think I can really get used to the sight of Nietzschean fleets that have surrendered.”
“Does warm the cockles of my heart,” Vargo replied, but his thoughts turned back to the enemy ships that were still roving around the perimeter of the Blue Ridge System.
Though he’d gained full control of the planet Kansas and most of the major stations in the system during his brief stint as governor pro-tem, there were still a few Nietzschean corvettes causing problems at the edges of Blue Ridge.
The ISF had dispatched six ships, one of which had set up the jump gate, and one of which was a tug. That left an entire star system to be protected by four ships.
Provided they stayed. He wasn’t entirely certain that they would, in the long run.
Despite Senator Naia’s prickly nature, Vargo hoped that she and the other rebel forces back on Kansas would be able to work with other leaders and re-establish their own local government in his absence.
Naia had already begun to declare that Blue Ridge was the place where New Genevia had been born—though Vargo had done his best to keep her from saying it too much.
By his reckoning, it was possible that as the Marauders continued to hit targets in Nietzschean-controlled space, the enemy would ignore the loss of systems like Blue Ridge…. But if the Niets saw it as a place where they could achieve a symbolic victory, then Naia’s insistence in using ‘New Genevia’ as a rallying cry was only going to land her and her people in a world of trouble.
“Look at that,” Ashley said, grinning as they passed a line of ships drifting toward a jump gate. “Harriets. Dozens of them.”
Her statement pulled him away from his worry over the Blue Ridge System and the fact that they would now have to fend for themselves as the Marauders marched on.
“Sure does feel good taking the Niets’ toys and using them to bludgeon them to death,” Vargo replied with a laugh. “Speaking of taking the enemy’s ships, there’s the Fury Lance, it’s just on the far side of that….”
“Wait…is there a black hole orbiting that brown dwarf?” Ashley asked with a nervous laugh. “What did they get up to here?”
Vargo shook his head, grinning as he watched the black hole flare brightly as it devoured some small piece of mass. “All I know is that with Rika in the mix, it was probably her doing.”
LOST SHEEP
STELLAR DATE: 10.26.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: MSS Fury Lance
REGION: Epsilon, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
Rika stood at the front of the briefing room, surveying the commanders of her Marauders as they settled into their chairs.
If it wasn’t for the mountain of work ahead of them, she would have taken a moment to consider how surreal it was that she now commanded a force that consisted of over two thousand mechs, twenty-one ships, and another six hundred ship’s crew.
When they had arrived a day prior, she had been—and still was—astounded by how many of the mechs rescued from Stavros’s Politica had ultimately signed up with the Marauders. In addition to those new additions, other mechs had flocked toward Pyra when they heard about the special battalion that had been established within the mercenary organization.
On top of those new Marauders, Colonel Adira and her Demons had sworn to follow Rika into battle. Adding her forces to the tally, there were well over three thousand people looking to Rika for guidance.
Many in the room were newly minted lieutenants, captains, and majors, as well as the battalions’ senior noncoms. Rika had directed the mechs from her original company to sit interspersed throughout the room. She didn’t want to create the perception that there was an ‘in crowd’, even if it was partially true.
Luckily for her, there had been a lot of reunions over the past day, and many bonds were reforming, which kept new additions from feeling left out.
Rika gave the sergeant major a steely-eyed look, and he only shrugged.
Rika decided to ignore him and shook her head before clearing her throat. The action brought the room to order, stilling the assemblage in a few seconds; every eye on Rika.
Why is this more terrifying than staring down a battalion of Nietzscheans?
She hoped so. Rika had been reciting her speech all morning, the things she was going to say, predicting the responses, and then preparing her counters to any dissent.
Glancing to the left, her gaze met that of Colonel Adira, who leant against the bulkhead at the edge of the platform. The woman gave her a smile and nodded encouragingly.
But as she looked out over the room, at the mechs and vanilla humans alike, she knew that her stilted speech was not what they needed to hear. Swallowing, she drew a deep breath and said the first thing that came to her mind.
“We’re all outcasts.” The words fell from her lips onto the ears of her waiting audience. “Whether we were abandoned, pushed out, or defeated, we all lost everything five years ago when the remnants of the Genevian government surrendered. And honestly, most of us lost everything long before that.”
All around the room, heads nodded in agreement, and Rika nodded with them.
“Even though it’s easy to feel that way—and though it may have been true once—‘outcast’ no longer defines us. Once, we may have lost everything, but now…now we’ve found something. When General Mill formed the Marauders, it was clear that he did so with a singular purpose in mind: halt the advance of Nietzschea into the Praesepe Cluster, and maybe someday strike back against the empire.
“Most of you never met the general, and I didn’t get the opportunity to know him well, myself, but I do know that he’d be grinning ear-to-ear at the ass whippin’ we’ve given the Niets so far. I bet he would’ve pissed himself with glee when the enemy was thrashed at Pyra.”
There were grins all around the room, and Rika caught Captain Penny of the Perseid’s Dream laughing softly. Even Major Tim, sitting on Penny’s right, wasn’t frowning for once.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard the stories of why the Allied forces hit Pyra with such a decisive blow: they came to save one of their own, a woman named Tanis Richards.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking: that Tanis Richards is their commander, that it makes perfect sense that they’d save her…. But I know that they would have done the same for any of their people, because they truly value life.”
Heads bobbed throughout the room, primarily from people
who were present at Pyra, but a few others joined in as well.
“As I said, most of us were abandoned during the war.” Rika’s eyes turned to meet Silva’s. “Some of us more than once. We were expendable, acceptable losses. And eventually we were outcast.
“That’s the last time I’ll use that word. The last time I’ll think of myself in that light. I can’t promise you a perfect future, I sure as hell know that we can’t atone for the past. But what we can do, is the right thing, right now.”
Rika clasped her GNR’s barrel and stared out over the officers and noncoms sitting before her, trying to find the right words for what she was going to propose next.
Barne opened his mouth to speak, but Leslie drove an elbow into his side before he’d even uttered a word, and then the yellow-eyed woman winked at Rika and gave her a small smile.
“We have a team out there that’s been…sidetracked. Lieutenant Colonel Alice has taken a fireteam far across Genevian space to the Iberia System. We don’t know why, but I plan to go there and find out. I’m suspicious of Colonel Alice’s motives, but I know that Alison’s team is not complicit in whatever’s going on.
“Military doctrine would say that we should continue to press our advantage here, probably divide our fleet and hit two systems at once, drive the Niets before us. But we’re not going to do any of that.”
She couldn’t help but glance in Major Tim’s direction to see his eyes widen, and let a small smile grace her lips as a result.
“We’re all going to go to the Iberia system to find our lost sheep.”
Though Major Tim appeared especially consternated by Rika’s proclamation, he was not the only one in the room that appeared surprised by the news.
“Remember.” Rika raised a finger as she surveyed the assembly. “Every person in this room was rescued at least once in the war, and again after. None of us would be here today if not for the aid of others. If the GAF’s high command had cared enough for its lost sheep during the war, things might have turned out differently.
“But now we’re Genevia. The New Genevia, and we don’t leave anyone behind.”
“Iberia, though, Colonel?” Major Tim finally blurted out. “There’s nothing there.”
“Well, nothing other than our people,” Rika replied equably. She didn’t want to get into a pissing match with the major during her first full battalion briefing. “You’re right, though. Iberia is not a major system. But we’ll go there nonetheless. We’ll likely take it, too—depending on what the situation looks like when we arrive.”
Several of her officers appeared confused, and Rika nodded to Captain Scarcliff. “I see a question in your eyes, Captain.”
“Umm, thank you, Colonel. I’m all for going after Alison, and I see the logic in your plan. Iberia is sixty light years from here, and there’s no way that we can coordinate our forces across that distance—so if anyone goes, we all go. But Iberia is very close to Parsons, and the Niets have a strong presence there. If we liberate Iberia, it won’t be long before the enemy is back on their doorstep.”
Rika raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as she held Scarcliff’s gaze.
“Really…” he whispered.
Behind Rika, a view of the Nietzschean Empire appeared, beginning at the Theban and Septhian border on the left side and stretching to the far fringes of Nietzschea on the right.
“I know our plan was to skirt the perimeter of the empire. Hit Blue Ridge, gather what intel we could, and then move on to Caulter. But since we’re moving further in with our diversion to Iberia, I’m changing track entirely.”
A line appeared, hopping between star systems as Rika spoke.
“We hit Iberia, then Parsons, then we’ll see what opportunity presents itself, but likely head toward Cornwall. From there, I see us swinging by Marcia—”
“And then the Genevia System?” Major Tim blurted out.
Rika nodded soberly. “And then Genevia.”
Murmurs spread through the room, and Tim spoke up again. “Colonel Rika, we don’t have the logistical support to mount an attack that deep in Nietzschean space.”
Rika sent Niki a wink.
She’d not spoken aloud during her conversation with Niki, only stared intently at Major Tim. Her silence quelled the other murmurs in the room, and the major began to redden.
After thirty long seconds, Rika finally spoke. “Why thank you for reminding me of that, Major.” She glanced at the tall woman who leant against the wall to the left of the raised platform. “Colonel Adira has operated within Genevia’s former borders since the end of the war five years ago. After she and her original crew evac’d from the Caulter System—which is where their most recent strike took place—they operated near Parsons and Cornwall.”
Rika paused as Adira straightened and flipped her long ebony hair over her shoulder before addressing the room. “My battalion hit outposts near Parsons twice in the past year, and we’ve gone as far in as Cornwall, as Rika said. We know where a dozen old stockpiles are, and we also know of a few Nietzschean outposts that are…less than well defended.”
“Which is good,” Rika said as she resumed. “Because most of our ships are Nietzschean.”
More people than just Major Tim were looking worried, as Adira outlined a few locations they could hit for supplies. Scarcliff’s eyebrows were raised—though he was holding his tongue—and even Captain Penny seemed uncertain.
“I get it,” Rika said as her gaze swept over the group. “This is scary. But if we push hard, we can reach Genevia in half a year. Then we take our old capital back and re-establish our nation.”
“And then the Niets show up and crush us,” Tim all but shouted, his arms thrust in the air. “Seriously, Rika, this is nuts.”
Rika looked to the back of the room, where a newcomer had just slipped in—right on cue.
“It’s not nuts.”
Every head in the room turned to see that the speaker was Admiral Carson of the Intrepid Space Force. He nodded to the Marauders as he skirted the edge of the room and approached the raised platform.
“Rika and I have spoken with Field Marshal Richards, and she approves of this plan. Moreover, she’s committed ISF resources to the strike.”
“You’re coming with us?” Captain Heather asked, a look of relief on her face.
Carson shook his head. “No. That gives away too much. But when you’re in position to take Genevia, we’ll be ready to spring the trap on the Niets. The fact that your path to Genevia is all but a straight line guarantees that they’ll know you’re coming. As Rika likes to say, ‘we’ll play that part by ear’, but my fleet will be ready to join the fight when it will hurt the Niets the most.”
“And resupply?” Major Tim asked, scowling at Admiral Carson. “Forgive me, sir, if I’m not too excited by the idea of scavenging our way to Genevia.”
Carson clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face the major. “Boy, don’t talk to me like you know war. I watched the Red Fleet burn off the starward side of Eris when the people who founded Genevia weren’t even a twinkle in their great-great grandparents’ eyes. I hunted Sirian scout ships in the interstellar darkness beyond the Kap’s heliosphere, and flew fighters through nuclear fireballs in Bollam’s World. At New Canaan, I saw teenage girls face down Trisilieds carriers that make those Harriets
out there look like quaint little toys. You think you know war because of your fight with the Niets? I’ve been at war for centuries.”
Carson’s words were doled out with a quiet menace that caused the major to shrink back in his seat and redden even further.
Rika gave the ISF admiral an appreciative look. “We will, of course, ensure that the ISF fleet is ready to join in before we hit Genevia. We have more QuanComm blades now, so we won’t be without lines of communication, like we were previously.”
In the front row, Barne raised his hand. “Colonel, Admiral, with ISF jump-gate tech, can we not just jump to Iberia now and beat Alice there?”
Carson gave Barne an apologetic shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Sergeant Major, we need the gate-tugs that brought your new ships here taken back to the Albany System. Things are heating up with the Hegemony, and we’re taking thousands of the Nietzschean ships we captured out to Spica for refit. Jumping your ships to Iberia will either chew up a gate, or require those tugs to spend over a hundred days getting back to Albany.”
“The Genevia System will be one where it’s worth establishing a permanent gate presence,” Rika added. “Though our friends in the Alliance have the ability to jump aid across the galaxy in the event of dire need—or farther, from what I’ve heard. However, jump gates themselves are at a premium.”
“It’s true,” Carson replied. “Stars, my fleet alone has eleven ships trailing along from final engagements, hauling the last gate used from places that no longer need them.”
“Too bad you can’t have a gate that can jump itself,” Barne said with a shake of his head.
“If wishes were fishes. Physics isn’t going to bend to your desires,” Lieutenant Carson patted Barne on the shoulder from where he sat in the row behind him.
“You’re just backing the admiral because you have the same name, Bondo,” Barne growled without turning.
“This is all just long-term thinking at present,” Rika said, giving Barne a pregnant look before continuing. “We can change course midway if necessary, and we won’t commit to battles we don’t think we can win. There are only so many of us, and I’m not putting Marauders carelessly at risk.”
