by M. D. Cooper
“I think you’re going to be climbing the ladder very soon, as well,” Beatrice replied. “But we’ll limit the upheaval as much as possible for now.”
The XO nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
Cary felt dizzy as she and the captain…former captain…resumed their seats. Then it hit her. “Did you get a promotion in rank, as well, ma’am?”
Beatrice nodded. “That I did. You’re looking at a rear admiral, here.”
Another round of applause swept the table, and after it had carried on for a few seconds, the newly minted flag officer raised her hands for silence.
“Alright, everyone, if we don’t settle down, they won’t serve dessert, and I’ve called up some of our best brandy to go with it.”
“Well, let’s not delay, then,” Earnest said jovially. “Bring on the dessert!”
CHAPTER 41 - RIKA
STELLAR DATE: 01.13.8960 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Warsaw
REGION: Farsis System, Independent Systems of the Lupus Cloud
Rika and Chase walked onto the bridge, Chase settling behind his customary console, while Rika strode to the holotank, arms akimbo as she glared at the view of Warsaw’s nearspace.
“Do they really think they can blockade us?” she asked, shaking her head at the markers indicating FSF ships moving into orbit above and below the Overwatch.
“Uh huh.” Chase nodded. “If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be doing that.”
Rika nodded, squaring her shoulders. “I guess we have to do the inevitable part, where we talk to President Estee and tell her to stand down or we blast our way out…yada yada yada.”
“Yup,” Chase said. “It’s in the regs. Gotta let them get their bluster on.”
She glanced back at her husband. “I’m too tired for bluster. I’ve had a long day.”
“Sorry, hon. No rest for the weary and all that.”
“I thought it was no rest for the wicked.”
“Fair enough.” Rika turned back to face the forward display. “Would you mind connecting us, Piper?”
“Oh joy. I guess put her on.”
President Estee appeared before Rika, Cimara standing at her side.
“Ambassador Rika,” Estee greeted, a decidedly fake smile on her lips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say your ship was preparing to break orbit.”
Rika nodded. “You don’t really know better, but in this case, you’re right. We are breaking orbit. We’ve seen enough to know that Farsis is not a suitable candidate for a gate or inclusion in the QuanComm network.”
Estee heaved a sigh and glanced at her wife. “Well, we’re sorry you feel that way. Unfortunately, we’re not about to let you leave the system just yet. You see, we know that your ship carries a gate or two, just in case you need to go somewhere in a hurry. You’re going to turn them over to us and teach us how to use them.”
Rika glanced back at Chase, who shrugged in response.
“Umm…how’s about ‘no’?”
“You’re not going to cooperate?” Cimara asked. “Not even to save yourselves?”
Estee’s eyes narrowed, and she glanced at her wife. “It’s the stasis shields. They think they’re impenetrable.”
“Not entirely,” Rika replied. “But they can’t be breached by any weapons you have.”
“There’s more than one way to breach your defenses.” The president folded her arms. “We’ll give you thirty minutes to decide.”
The connection ended, and Rika turned to Chase. “Can you believe these people?”
“Maybe.” Chase shrugged. “But I really can’t think of any leverage they have over us.”
Niki said.
“What is the likelihood that they have a DMG?” Rika asked. “Tucked in some moon or something.”
Chase snorted. “So that’s a no.”
“You just might,” Rika said with a weary laugh. “Alright, so if they don’t have that, what else could they have?”
Niki sent a mental shrug.
“And a stasis shielded ship of their own?” Chase asked. “I mean, it’s possible, right? Hard as they are to take out, the Allies lost, what…a thousand during the war?”
“And ended up here?” Rika asked. “What are the chances?”
Niki answered.
Rika rubbed a hand against her face, careful not to get her fingers caught in hair. “Alright, well, at present, I think our best bet is to call their bluff. Piper, can you deploy a few thousand drones so we can keep the Farsians from directing all their firepower at us?”
The ship’s AI grunted in disagreement, but said nothing more. A second later, the forward display noted a drone release.
“Sealing the bays,” Chase added. “Just in case they have some sort of crazy superweapon we’ve never encountered before.”
“Gonna have to have words with Seraphina if we’re facing lost ISF tech,” Rika muttered as she walked to her command chair and sat down.
“I wasn’t completely serious.” Rika pulled up a view of Warsaw’s nearspace on her console. “There are already over a hundred ships in close proximity. We should leave now before things get hairy.”
“No.” Rika sighed. “We can’t initiate hostilities in their own system. Doesn’t look good for the Alliance.”
“Other than a bunch of finger-pointing?” Chase asked. “I can’t think of a way.”
“They could goad us into firing on them,” Rika suggested, drumming her fingers on the console. “But I don’t see how. Alright, Piper. Best route out of here?”
Rika nodded silently, her eyes on the enemy ships closing in on the Overwatch.
Stars…what’s your game, Estee?
Piper presented the course, and Rika approved it, confident that the AI could guide the ship through any obstacle course with the least amount of damage.
Seconds later, burn indicators lit up on the forward display, and the ship began to move into a
higher orbit, rising toward the blockade of enemy cruisers overhead.
The enemy formation was tight, only a few dozen kilometers between each ship—something that Rika considered to be exceptionally reckless. Too easy to catch friendly vessels in crossfire and engine wash. Not to mention the ease with which an enemy could select targets of opportunity.
“None of their weapons are hot—at least, not that I can see from this angle,” Chase reported. “What are they playing at?”
“…forced the president to accompany her to a refugee camp today. There, sources say that Ambassador Rika participated in a covert handoff with terrorists seeded within the refugees. They’ve now taken control of the facility and are threatening to kill the guards and aid workers unless their demands are met.”
The visual, which had been a picture of one of the buildings Rika had visited earlier, switched to a view of the Overwatch, shifting into a higher orbit.
“Meanwhile, Ambassador Rika has dismissed a direct request from President Estee to explain her part in the matter, and is currently leaving orbit with no declared flight path. It’s impossible to say what her goals are at this point, but I think it’s safe to say that the Alliance of Sapiens does not have Farsis’s best interests in mind. We will continue to update you as this story unfolds.”
The news feed switched to a view of political commentators discussing the events, and Rika muted the feed.
Rika glanced at Chase, who shook his head.
“We can’t let them play us like this, Rika. We have to keep going.”
The ambassador heaved a sigh. “I agree. Stay on course, Piper.”
“Can’t hurt,” Rika replied. “The only thing she can do is further tip her hand.”
A second later, Estee and Cimara appeared on the main display, the president’s expression grim while her wife smirked.
“We saw the feeds.” Rika remained seated, her arms crossed. “Do you think we’re that easy to manipulate?”
Estee shook her head. “Of course not. What does the Alliance care about what one system in a backward region thinks of them?”
“We care, just not enough to let that concern allow us to be blackmailed.”
Estee glanced at Cimara, whose expression only grew more smug.
“We expected as much. That’s why you’ve only learned a sliver of what is underway,” the president’s wife said
The view switched to show one of the main holding areas in the refugee facility they’d visited earlier. People filled the space, huddled together, staring fearfully at drones that ringed them, weapons trained on those inside.
Bile rose in Rika’s throat, and she stood, fists clenching and unclenching before she strode toward the main display. “You vile, disgusting woman. You’d kill these lost migrants just to get your hands on our jump gates?”
The image switched back to Estee and Cimara. “Oh I’ll kill my own people, too. The guards and aid workers are in with the refugees. We’ll kill them all and then pin it on the unrest you fomented. Everyone will hate you.”
“I can see you’re considering your options,” Estee said. “Well, you have fewer than you think. I’d like to direct your attention to this missile.”
The view switched to show a small point of light slowly circling one of the nearby cruisers.
“I’ve sent the coordinates,” the president said. “Scan it. That missile is surrounded by a stasis shield. If it hits your ship, that’s it, game over for you.”
Rika’s lips drew into a thin line. “So just in case we decide to let the refugees die, our second option is this? Obliteration?”
“Oh look,” Cimara glanced at her wife. “The ambassador isn’t a complete idiot.”
A rather long moment stretched out as Rika glared at the two women, both of whom now wore smirks as they stared back.
“And what if I surrender my gates?” Rika finally asked. “What guarantee do I have that you won’t kill the hostages and destroy us once you have them?”
Estee shrugged. “We’ll let the refugees go as soon as we have your first gate. Ships will be available to take them wherever they want to go.”
“That doesn’t give me much certainty about the safety of my crew.”
“Then you and your crew will just have to behave,” Cimara said, “and make sure you remain in our good graces.”
The rage that had been simmering below the surface threatened to burst free, and Rika killed the connection, collapsing back into her seat.
Chase rose from his and walked toward her. “What are we going to do? There are close to a hundred thousand refugees in that facility.”
“Piper.” Rika glanced at the overhead. “Bring us back down.”
“I do.”
“I’m still working on it.” Rika’s tone was apologetic. “So far, all I have is to string them along while we call for help.”
“No,” Rika held up a hand. “Too likely that the Farsian leaders would kill the refugees just to spite us—Estee might not do that, but I could totally see Cimara pulling the trigger.”
“That’s an option,” Chase said. “Could work to sneak a few mechs in, take out the drones covering those hostages, then go for the missile…somehow.”
“There’s still the issue of all the other people they could use to pressure us,” Rika replied. “I think there’s only one real option. We need to get down there and take out the president and her bitch of a wife.”
Niki barked a laugh.
“I’m open to suggestions,” Rika said. “Maybe we could—Wait, what’s that ship? Is that…?”
“There,” Rika pushed a visual of the vessel onto the main screen. “Its ident reads as the Kingfisher’s Nest, but I think it’s the Barbaric Queen.”
“Really?” Chase turned and scowled at the display. “Looks like just another luxury starliner. What’s the Barbaric Queen?”
“Not only that, but they’re less than an AU from Warsaw,” Rika added. “Makes sense, now that I think about it.”
“What does?” Chase asked.
“That here we are, staring at a missile with stasis shields that will destroy us if they touch our shields, and along comes a team with a mandate to hunt down advanced tech that’s fallen into the wrong hands.”
Niki added a moment later.
Rika nodded. “Stars yes we shall. We’re going to send them down to capture a president.”
CHAPTER 42 - CARY
&nb
sp; STELLAR DATE: 01.14.8960 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: TSS Cora’s Triumph
REGION: Trian 58-X11, Norma Arm
Cary ran a hand through her hair, doing her best to get it pulled back into a ponytail as she walked down the passage leading to the officer’s mess.
After two failed attempts to capture all the wisps, she gave up and let it fall down over her shoulders.
Not like it’s regulation on a research mission, anyway.
She rounded the last corner, catching a few words echoing down the passage from the mess’s open door. It wasn’t the volume of the words that caught her attention—she could hear through walls, should she so choose, and tended to tune out most chatter—it was the content.
“…don’t care about any of that. Bad enough having an ascie aboard, but as captain?”
“What do you have against ascended people?” another voice asked. “We won the last war because of them.”
“We had the last war because of them,” the first voice said. “And you know the stories about Richards…what she did with the Widows.”
“Ended Orion, from what I heard,” a third voice chimed in. “Enabled the strike that got us their entire leadership in one fell swoop. Once that happened, the war was all but over.”
“Do you know how she did that?” the first voice pressed.
“She went undercover?” the second speaker suggested.
A coarse laugh came from the first person. “Seriously? Do you think you can operate undercover as a Widow for months just like that? She became a Widow. She subsumed Lisa Wrentham’s mind; she became our enemy.”
“And what?” the third voice asked. “Do you think she’d be let back into active duty if she were still compromised? There are other ascended people in the AoS. They’d know if she wasn’t fit.”
“Would they?” the first voice asked. “And if they did, would they tell us? She’s the hegemon’s daughter. Mommy just has to give the order, and Cary is back in the field.”
“That’s Colonel Richards to you,” a voice barked from the back of the room. “And if you have an issue serving under her, you can submit a transfer request. I’ll be more than happy to get you off the Triumph.” The voice paused. “Actually, there’s no need for you to submit a request. Pack your things, you’re off rotation, and will be gone on the next transfer shuttle.”
