In addition to the Denali and the Sirius, there were two other recently completed starships docked at Yehliu now – the scoutships Canopus and Rigel, targeted for scouting of potential colony planets. Eighteen other starships were in the manufacturing pipeline – four additional scout ships, four lightly armed corvettes like the Denali, two heavily armed frigates to start the process of building a defense fleet, four asteroid mining ships for financing their monetary needs - and four colony transports, starships big enough to carry 1,000 humans to another world, with all the resources to plant a new colony.
Scout ships and corvettes were fully assembled on Earth, as they had the capability to reach orbit on their own. The much larger frigates and colony ships were assembled in orbit at Yehliu, with components completed on Earth and lifted by ETOs – Earth-to-Orbit transport barges.
The transfer of emphasis from chemical rockets to tDrive starships had created a political firestorm on Earth; every government and corporation on the planet was howling for the RDF to release the tDrive technology obtained from Pandora for civilian use. But Jake had made it clear RDF technology would be transferred to the civilian sector slowly, when it could be done without endangering the RDF’s ability to ramp up exploration and defense activities and meet the threat of the Bat Empire. As a result, the RDF had only released system engines so far – drives that enabled spaceships to travel within the Sol System quickly, taking only a few hours to go to Mars or Jupiter, but which couldn’t be used for interstellar travel. Jake had promised the release of the interstellar drives when the RDF had completed a fleet of fifty starships – enough to start interstellar colonization, scout their enemies and provide rudimentary peacekeeping within human space lanes. Another – unspoken - reason for Jake’s delay was his concern that rogue elements might try to contact the Bat Empire before Earth had prepared a defense. For that reason, he had a research team working on AI technology to control civilian tDrives and prevent them from traveling toward the Bat Empire.
Most governments on Earth – and for that matter, most ordinary people – simply couldn’t relate to the threat humanity was facing. After all, there were no aliens in the skies; no intelligent, gun-toting lizards walking the Earth. Life went on pretty much as it did before Pandora’s arrival.
There was only Pandora’s word that sometime in the next one hundred years, a fleet of Bat Empire starships would come out of the Pipe Nebula and turn Earth into a blazing cauldron. Like people since time immemorial, humans wanted to push off thoughts of defense and war into a far future and spend the ‘now’ exploring space - and making themselves obscenely rich.
The Unholy Three – Jake, Teresa and Kirsten - were the impediment to powerful people’s dreams of riches beyond imagination. Some of those people thought the best solution was to eliminate the impediment. It was clear to Jake their days were numbered if they remained on Earth.
On Yehliu, standing just inside the spacedock portal gazing at the newly completed Denali, Jake couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride and satisfaction. She was 125 meters in length, 44 meters in beam and followed the general wedge shape of most of the ship designs provided by Pandora. She was matte-black and had no obvious external weapons; but hidden in her flanks were two railgun ports and two missile tubes. The corvette was the smallest class of warship planned for the future of the RDF. Its primary assets were stealth and speed, especially in three-space. It would never be asked to stand in line of battle with frigates and cruisers – or battleships. But to Jake, she was a thing of beauty.
After some minutes admiring her, Jake entered the portal and stepped through the hatch onto the boarding area. A bosun’s whistle blew and the side party of eight crew members saluted. Jake turned and saluted the RDF ensign painted on the forward bulkhead, then turned and saluted the side party and Captain Cassie Blocker, standing in front of them.
“Permission to come aboard, Captain,” said Jake.
“Permission granted, Admiral, and welcome aboard,” replied Cassie, newly appointed as master of the Denali. Jake shook her hand. Cassie was one of his favorite officers. Coming originally from the Royal Navy, she had been captain of a wet-navy frigate. When the RDF was formed, Teresa – as Director of Operations and Logistics – had faced many difficult problems. One of the most troublesome was recruitment of qualified officers and crew. After design and construction of starships, that had been the biggest thorn in her side. Starships had no purpose without a crew.
After much pain, argument, bad language, semi-civilized discussion and occasional over-indulgence in whiskey, Teresa had settled on an approach that seemed to be working. She recruited from all military forces on Earth, without regard to nationality or ethnic background. She offered compensation that was significantly higher than the crewmember’s previous job. Personnel retained their rank and date of seniority when they transferred to the RDF. And Teresa only accepted the cream of the crop.
To ensure that governments cooperated with her, Teresa had developed some interesting approaches to blackmail. Her main leverage was that any government which resisted – for example, by interfering with transfers from their military to the RDF - was blacklisted for further space exploration or colonization via RDF technology. This quickly brought the governments into line – no government wanted to be cut out of interstellar space exploration and the potential that could accrue from that.
Thus, six months earlier, Cassie Blocker had transferred from her wet-navy home in Portsmouth, England to Geneva as an RDF starship Captain. Cassie had quickly impressed both Teresa and Jake with her competence, humor and enthusiasm. After training on the capabilities and operating interfaces of the still incomplete corvette in simulators and working as Chief Engineer for the test flights of the Sirius, Cassie had accepted the newly commissioned Denali just three weeks earlier.
Since that time, she had completed two shakedown cruises and spent a week back in spacedock correcting minor issues. Today’s flight to Mars would be the first leg of the third and final shakedown cruise for the corvette; after dropping Jake, Teresa and Kirsten at Mars, the Denali would go outbound to HD 12051, a G5 star 80 light years from Earth, performing double duty both as a final test flight and a quick exploration of the star system.
Commander Ming Chou, the Denali’s Executive Officer – or XO - escorted Jake to his cabin. Jake stowed his bag and quickly went back out to the Common Room. Teresa and Kirsten were already there, waiting, along with Cassie. Many of Cassie’s crew, members of the RDF HQ staff, and other friends also waited expectantly.
A month earlier – after the near-death experience in the Sirius - Jake, Kirsten and Teresa had sat in Teresa’s apartment and made a pact to get married; to create a new set of rules for the RDF, based on the rigors of living in space for extended periods of time. Teresa had proposed the idea of conducting the ceremony – and taking their honeymoon - on the trip to Mars. Jake and Kirsten had agreed.
Their reasoning had been based on the simple concept that space was a new kind of environment for humans – and required a new kind of society. One that was not bound and restricted by thousands of years of religious intolerance, bigotry and sexual power struggles. The three had decided that forming this marriage was the first step in a long process of creating this new society. It had taken a bit of time for Jake to come around to the idea, but eventually he understood what Kirsten and Teresa were trying to accomplish.
Teresa had put it most succinctly, he thought. She had called it “Teresa’s Rule: Love the ones you’re probably going to die with”.
Jake, Teresa and Kirsten had explained to Cassie what they wanted, and although Cassie was slightly taken aback, she understood what they hoped to accomplish and was onboard with it. So now she stood in front of the three of them as they clasped hands together and Teresa read the marriage vows they had written out for themselves.
“Before us we face decades of danger, pain and death as we prepare to face a horrible enemy. We cannot know who will live and who will die i
n these years to come. So today we choose each other as lovers and companions on this journey into an unknown future. From this ceremony we will be bound to each other in life and death, ready to offer our lives for each other and for humanity, and this will be the watchword of the Rim Defense Force now and forever. May the Creator help us in our efforts.”
Then Cassie took up the ceremony.
“Do you, Teresa Tolleson, take Kirsten Monk and Jake Hammett as your legal mates for the period of five years from this date?”
“I do,” said Teresa, winking at Jake and Kirsten.
“Do you, Kirsten Monk, take Teresa Tolleson and Jake Hammett as your legal mates for the period of five years from this date?”
“I do,” said Kirsten, gazing at Teresa.
“And Jake Hammett, do you take Kirsten Monk and Teresa Tolleson as your legal mates for the period of five years from this date?”
“He does,” said Kirsten and Teresa simultaneously.
“He has to answer for himself, ladies,” Cassie said, grinning hugely.
Jake shook his head. “Do you see what I’m up against here, Cassie?”
Cassie just smiled back at him, waiting.
“I do,” sighed Jake. “As if I had a choice,” he muttered under his breath.
Cassie, laughing, continued. “Then by the authority vested in me as a starship Captain in the Rim Defense Force, I pronounce the three of you wedded. You may kiss, dance or fight, whatever turns you on.”
Teresa turned and grabbed Kirsten and Jake in a bear hug, not quite able to wrap her arms around them completely but enough to pull them all in together. Cassie and the rest of the RDF staff broke into applause, and somewhere in the back of the room a champagne cork popped.
“Party time!” yelled Teresa and broke off the hug to head for the bar in the back of the room.
Kirsten held on to Jake for a moment longer, staring into his eyes. Very quietly, she said: “I know we’ve both loved Teresa for a while, Jake,” she said. “I hope you can love me the same way someday.”
Jake looked at Kirsten and pulled her closer. “I promise you, Kirsten, I will.”
Next morning, they woke up in Mars orbit. The Denali had taken three hours to make the journey, arriving at the partially completed MarsDock Orbital Station, RDF Gusev, while they were sleeping. Nobody had disturbed them, on their first honeymoon morning.
Jake was happy about that – he had quite a hangover, but probably not as much as Teresa, who shut the party down at 1 AM and passed out in a corner of the Common Room, requiring Jake to pick her up and carry her back to their cabin. Kirsten was not much of a drinker, so had also passed out, but much sooner, and only after she had staggered back to their cabin on her own.
Thus, Jake had spent his honeymoon night with two unconscious females in the bed, while he slept on the couch. But with the hangover he had, he didn’t really mind. They had the rest of their lives to get to know each other in that way, he thought. What was important now was getting them to a safe place where they could continue to build a space navy that could save humanity.
2 Ligeia
Darwin - a Machine Ship which visited Earth in 750BC and abducted 200 humans, taking them 580 light years away to the planet Aeolis in the Beehive Cluster, where they were abandoned. The original abductees came from the Greek city-state of Aeolis. However, twelve Amazon warriors were in the group; these women took over leadership of the small band on the new planet and established a matriarchal society based on a blend of Greek and Amazon culture and beliefs. This formed the nucleus of the Aeolian Empire. The current Empire consists of forty-one planets, is ruled by a ruthless matriarchy of those Amazon descendants and is currently involved in a brutal civil war.
- Pandora’s Message
15 January 2124 - 31 Months after Pandora
Helios System - Planet Aeolis
580 lights from Earth
Cadet Ligeia Iona Satra squared off in the sword pit, her bare heels a meter in front of the ropes lying on the ground behind her. She faced her opponent across the pit, grinning madly. Her hand on the wooden training sword was caked in dirt. Ligeia loved a good fight. The cadets of the Imperial Naval Academy at Aronte fought often – with fists, wrestling, in the warship simulator – but it was the sword that Ligeia loved most. With the sword, she could combine her physical strength with her mental acuity and quickness to overcome nearly any opponent - as she had shown today, leaving a string of beaten victims in her wake as she advanced to the finals of the tourney.
Now only Penthesilea stood between her and victory. Beating this last challenger would give her the junior cup. At 17 years, Ligeia was not yet allowed to fight in the full tourney – only seniors could do that - but this would suffice.
“Penthe! I’m going to kick your ass!” she yelled, hammering the butt of the wooden sword onto the small wooden shield she carried on her left arm. “After I knock your head in, I’m going to piss on your sorry carcass!”
With a growl, Penthesilea charged, her sword pulled in tight to knock Ligeia’s shield aside and push her over the ropes, causing her to be disqualified. This was what Ligeia had been waiting for; she feinted right, then left. Penthesilea over-anticipated and moved first one way, then the other, trying to out-guess Ligeia. But Ligeia had already moved back to her original position, never having actually moved her feet. She leaped into the air, raising her arm to hammer the butt of her sword on the back of Penthe’s neck as her opponent desperately tried to re-orient her aim. With a thud, Penthe went past her, going down, face smacking into the dirt and body skidding over the rope to disqualification.
“Winner!” called the referee, holding up the red flag and pointing it at Ligeia. Ligeia grinned even wider, as her fellow cadets came up and pounded her on the back, basking in her glory even though she had beaten them all soundly. Ligeia wiped her sleeve across her face, removing some of the dirt and sweat that had accumulated during the tourney. After minutes of congratulations from her peers, she was finally released to go back to her dorm. Before leaving, she walked over to Penthe, who was examining bruises on both arms where she had hit the dirt hard.
“Penthe! Are you alright?” asked Ligeia.
Penthe glared at her. “Yes, no thanks to you, Lige. Next year…I’ll get you next year!”
Ligeia leaned in and kissed her on the lips. “Absolutely, Penthe. Next year!”
Penthe grunted and pretended to wipe off the kiss. “Crap, Lige. I don’t want any of that.” But Ligeia noted that Penthe couldn’t completely hide a smile. Ligeia winked at her and went on her way to her dorm. As she departed, she glanced over her shoulder. Penthe was looking at her, with a half-smile on her lips. “Umm, this could be a good night,” Ligeia thought to herself.
The Imperial Naval Academy in Aronte was the pillar of the AEN – the Aeolian Empire Navy. Girls destined for the AEN officer corps entered the Academy at the age of 14. There they spent four grueling years learning combat – every form of combat. From the physical – wrestling, swordplay, several forms of what an Earther might call judo – to the mental – the strategy and tactics of starship combat, first in simulators and later, in their senior year, in fleet exercises on real starships.
Entry into the Academy was, of course, limited to females. Only females could serve as officers in the AEN. Males were relegated to crew duties. And only females of Amazon descent – the nobility – could rise to the level of Captain or above.
Ligeia was an Amazon. She was a member of the Satra clan – a minor branch of the ruling house Aronte, for which the city was named. Although no longer in the line of succession, the Satra family was still considered one of the most powerful in the nation. Over the last two hundred years they had evolved from political roles to military ones, becoming almost exclusively Naval officers or AEN suppliers.
In another year, Ligeia would graduate as an Ensign. She would take up her duties on a warship, probably a corvette or destroyer, and begin working her way up the chain. With any luck, i
n ten or fifteen years she would be a Captain, commanding a destroyer or even a frigate.
Thinking about her future, Ligeia muttered to herself, “I hope the Fringe Rebellion is still going on when I graduate. I want to kill some rebels!”
In the meantime, she thought, she needed a shower. Entering her dorm room, she stripped off her sweaty clothes and went to the bathroom. Turning the shower to a stream of ice-cold water, she stepped in, gasping in both discomfort and delight at the intensity of it. Scrubbing her head and body, she stripped away the dirt and sweat of the sword pit, reveling in the feeling, leaning forward to place her hands on the tile as she let the water cool her body and her mind.
With a loud chime, she heard someone at the door. Stepping out of the shower, she didn’t bother to grab a towel. She walked to the door and opened it, dripping water on the floor, naked. Penthe stood, a grin on her face that got even wider as she saw Ligeia’s uncovered body.
“I want a rematch,” Penthe said, barely able to get the words out.
“What sport?” asked Ligeia.
“Wrestling,” whispered Penthe, entering the room and closing the door behind her.
Sol System - MarsBase
Captain Kirsten Monk had a tough job. She was the Director of Colonization for the Rim Defense Force. Simple in principle – just pick up a thousand people, carry them to another planet which would support life, and drop them off. Ensure they had enough supplies to survive until they were self-sufficient. Repeat as necessary until humanity had enough colonized planets to match the Bat Empire and defend themselves. Oh, and do all this while facing an uncertain deadline before the Bats came swarming to Earth to kill every living human.
Never mind such details as financing the effort, picking planets that would work, selecting people who wouldn’t go berserk the minute they got to another planet.
Never mind avoiding groups who wanted to export religious jihad to the stars, or white nationalism, or fascism, or any of a dozen other -isms that Kirsten had encountered in the selection process so far.
Imprint of Blood Page 3
