Free Space

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by Scott Bartlett


  Keep your mind on the battle, you idiot. Good God. Who are you?

  Once she’d donned the power suit and accepted a Crossbow, Rose turned to him once more. “It’s not enough to push the Xanthic out of the city, Avery. We need to keep pushing. Find out where they’re coming from. And burn it down.”

  He nodded, seeing the sense in it. If they didn’t deal with the Xanthic now, and figure out how they were able to surprise them like this, then it would just keep happening.

  “Ma’am…aren’t you concerned about what Kibishii might want in exchange for helping us?”

  Through her faceplate, she shot him a look of pure disbelief. “Of course not, Major. To save this city, I'd dance with the devil himself.”

  Chapter Six

  New Houston, Oasis Colony

  Freedom System, Dupliss Region

  Earth Year 2290

  Rose gripped the assault rifle they’d given her tightly as she tailed Avery’s squad out of Frontier Plaza. If she was being honest with herself, she’d neglected her shooting practice, lately—something her father had warned her never to do.

  But I’m not about to tell Avery that.

  “Contact,” a marine barked over the squad-wide comms.

  All ten marines reacted immediately, spreading out to avoid offering the Xanthic a convenient mass of silver power suits to shoot at.

  By the time she saw where the aliens were coming from, the marines were already shooting down an alleyway to their right. Two particularly large Xanthic filled the alley’s mouth, arm blades raised as they charged. They seemed totally committed to their attack, even though anyone could see they were doomed.

  Rose rushed to the marines’ right flank and added her fire to theirs. At least, she tried to. When she lined up the shot and squeezed her trigger finger, the weapon only clicked.

  She gazed down at it, dumbfounded. Oh my God. Did I really forget to unsafety this damn thing?

  Her finger found the black knob, and she tapped it in, allowing her to shoot. But by then, it was too late. The Xanthic lay on the asphalt between the marines and the alleyway, twitching weirdly.

  None of the marines seemed to have noticed her blunder. At least, if they had, they were putting on a good show of hiding it. Which was a good thing, where their job security was concerned.

  That was a joke. I think.

  The Kibishii marines had lent their shuttles to help push the Xanthic out of the city, using the armored craft as gunships to great effect. But then they did one better.

  Rose found herself nodding slowly, feeling impressed, as a Kibishii mortar team set up at an intersection of two main streets up ahead.

  A nearby marine was staring that way, too. “Nice.”

  “Agreed,” Avery said. “Let’s head that way. It’ll be nice to have some heavy artillery backing us up for a change.”

  By the time they arrived, more Kibishii employees were setting up a pair of heavy machine guns on tripods.

  “Any sign of Xanthic around here?” Avery asked the man whose power suit lapels singled him out as the highest-ranking Kibishii fighter.

  The marine stared at Avery blank-faced, then tapped at his wrist. “Please say again,” said the computerized voice of a universal translator. Universal for human languages, anyway.

  “Oh,” Avery said, his southern accent getting thicker as he grew more uncertain. “Uh…have you had any contact with the enemy?”

  The Kibishii officer raised his hand to gesture down one of the intersecting streets. “There are some hiding in an alleyway, three hundred meters in that direction. Unless they departed from the alley’s opposite end.”

  “Let’s check that out, marines.”

  Using the heavy artillery for counterpreparation fire, Avery led the effort to spider-web through the city, clearing street after street as he coordinated other squads to do the same.

  Rose’s performance picked up as they did, her old marksmanship coming back to her as she picked off alien bug after alien bug.

  Well, “picked off” wasn’t entirely accurate. She added her fire to the other marines, and together they eventually cut through the thick Xanthic carapaces to mow their targets down.

  She appreciated how deftly Avery handled his charges, especially considering how new he was to command. That was also why she’d gone easy on him for assuming she couldn’t fight.

  Capable leaders lead from the front, Gregory Rose said into her ear, a voice from what felt like the distant past. That’s how they earn the trust of their people. By sharing the danger. Shouldering the burden right along with them. Don’t become a hapless desk jockey, Veronica. The Roses are killers—no use pretending otherwise. Just make sure you stay that way.

  She was a killer. But that didn’t mean she stayed unaffected when errant mortar fire crumbled the corner of a building, or rendered an intersection unnavigable to speeders.

  That was happening more than she would have liked. The slow destruction of the city. It seemed that in retaking New Houston, the humans were doing far more damage to it than the Xanthic had so far.

  She could tell it bothered Avery and his marines, too. The way they went rigid whenever a mortar crashed into a storefront. Their feet dragging for a minute after, till they shook it off and resumed fighting with as much vigor as before.

  Protecting Oasis isn’t just a job, to Frontier employees. We take this personally. And I’m proud of that.

  It took two hours to clear the city’s northwest quadrant of Xanthic, and another hour until it seemed obvious they were about to reclaim the southwest.

  “Put someone else in charge of the cleanup,” she told Avery. “They can help Kibishii retake the rest of New Houston. We need to find the Xanthic’s base now, while they’re in disarray. If we let them prepare for us, we’ll have a much harder fight. Gather a platoon of your best marines.”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” With that, he brought a hand to the side of his helmet and started giving the necessary orders.

  As he did, she decided now was a good time to get in touch with the New Jersey.

  She expected Lucy Guerrero’s voice to greet her, but Tad Thatcher spoke instead. “Veronica. Are you hurt?”

  His use of her first name sent an unexpected thrill through her. But the question itself irked her. “Why does everyone assume I’m seconds away from getting myself killed? Didn’t I mention getting the same training as any Frontier employee?”

  Unlike Avery, Thatcher answered immediately, his voice firm. “Having the training is one thing. Risking the entire company by putting yourself in danger is quite another.”

  “This is just my leadership style, Thatcher. Like it or find another corp to work for.”

  This time, a brief silence did pass between them. “All right, then.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound so harsh. But…I’ll be fine, okay?”

  “If you say so, Ms. Rose.”

  Back to Ms. Rose, is it? Well, that was fine. Probably for the best. She didn’t want any employee getting too familiar with her. “I want you to figure out the Xanthic exit tunnel that’s closest to the city and send me a close-in visual of it.”

  “We can’t get too close-in. The satellites’ magnification isn’t that powerful.”

  She nodded, even though Thacher couldn’t see the gesture. Rayon Corp had sold Oasis Colony those satellites in a one-off contract with a money-back guarantee before taking off to the other side of the Cluster and refusing to answer any of their communications. Not the most sustainable way to do business, but it’s one way. “Just have Guerrero send me the best she has.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” With that, Thatcher ended the call.

  That was abrupt. Did I offend him, or something? Wow. I didn’t realize the great captain was so touchy.

  Once she had the visuals she’d requested, she forwarded them to Avery’s HUD. “Here’s where we’ll enter the Xanthic’s network.” Assuming they have a network. If they’re managing to emerge spontaneo
usly from the ground, we have bigger problems—like technologies we likely have no chance of understanding. She was giving the enemy way too much credit, she knew. Yes, they were powerful, and yes, they were alien. That didn’t mean they were gods. We can win this.

  By the time they’d properly assessed the lay of the land around their intended entry point—a little hilly, but nothing major—Avery’s platoon had assembled. Forty marines ready for action, who seemed to get even more pumped up when Avery told them what they’d be doing.

  “Ms. Rose will be accompanying us,” he finished.

  A silence fell over the platoon, and she caught a few uncomfortable glances passing between the marines. She gritted her teeth and said nothing. Gradually, the excited chatter picked back up, and at Avery’s command the marines formed up to move out.

  One of the marines kept looking back at her. Through her faceplate, Rose recognized her as Sergeant Suzanne Ruan. When she activated her night vision, she saw that Ruan was glaring at her.

  She restrained the impulse to rebuke the marine. Maybe it only looks like a glare. She’s probably just concerned for the safety of her CEO. Her people needed to realize that she was just as capable as they were.

  And the only way to make them realize that was to demonstrate it.

  As they exited New Houston and neared the broken ground where the Xanthic had emerged, Rose surged to the front of the platoon, assault rifle at the ready.

  “Ms. Rose, I really—”

  But she ignored Avery, marching into the tunnel instead, weapon raised to scan the green gloom shown by her night vision.

  The passage’s earthen walls had nothing particularly alien about them. Just the yellow soil characteristic of this region, caused by its high goethite content, along with plenty of rocks, roots, and Oasis’ unsettlingly large insects poking out.

  We need to move fast. She pushed through the gloom, her helmet’s augmented audio picking up the marines’ footfalls padding over the ground behind her.

  Her cardio was one thing she hadn’t let fall to the wayside, even if she had been mostly chained to her desk recently. She jogged along the uneven terrain, intent on reaching wherever the Xanthic had staged their attack.

  The marines stayed close behind her, but none of them passed her. Their cardio was stellar. Word had reached her that Avery saw to it that they were drilled even harder than Hancock had. Is that really his inclination, or is he trying to overcompensate for how green he is? Either way, it kept his fighters in tip-top shape.

  Their reason for holding back probably had more to do with who she was. They didn’t want to pass her, because they sensed what she was trying to do—follow a certain leadership style. And they probably respect it. Subordinates always did, when their leaders shared their burden. That’s what her father had always said.

  Twenty minutes in, the tunnel’s slope dropped sharply, and a few minutes after that it opened up into a cavern whose size surprised her. A three-story building could have fit inside here easily. Around the cave’s perimeter, she spotted at least five other tunnels branching off.

  Was this their staging area? She shook her head. Judging by the numbers the Xanthic had attacked with, it was probably one of several.

  Halfway across the cavern, passing a loose circle of boulders in its center, she noticed a Xanthic’s firearm leaning against one of the large rocks.

  Why would that be left there? Unless…

  A Xanthic appeared from behind a boulder, two rocks away. It went rigid, apparently just as surprised to see her as she was to see it. Then they both sprinted for its weapon at the same time.

  She only had time to kick the weapon away, sending it a few meters from the formation of boulders. Then the alien’s right arm-blade came at her, slicing toward her torso. She danced back, seeking the safety of the boulders.

  Gunfire from the direction she’d come slammed into the Xanthic, sending it staggering sideways into the rock nearest it. The alien recovered, then headed for its weapon, but Rose could tell it wouldn’t make it before the marines finished it off.

  She had other problems, however. Sharp cracks emanated from one of the tunnels she’d spotted, and a boulder beside her sprouted the same geometric formations the city’s buildings had whenever they’d been shot by the aliens.

  Rose dove sideways, positioning the closest boulder between her and the weapons fire. Then more firing came from another tunnel, and she dropped, flattening herself to the ground.

  The Xanthic were pulling back, returning to this cavern to regroup…and she was stranded in the middle of it, cut off from her marines.

  All because she’d wanted to play the daring leader.

  Idiot.

  Chapter Seven

  New Houston, Oasis Colony

  Freedom System, Dupliss Region

  Earth Year 2290

  A speaker near Hans Mittelman’s ear blared obnoxiously, jolting him awake.

  He sat up, for a moment not remembering where he was. Then, it came back to him: I’m in a civilian shelter. In the middle of an alien attack.

  That blaring could only be a priority call concerning the attack. Which meant he’d managed to choose the central command bunker to hole up in and take a nap.

  “I probably should have known that already,” he muttered. He was Frontier’s Chief Intelligence Officer, after all.

  It took a few seconds of scanning the cluttered desk to find the comm unit’s controls. He hadn’t paid much attention to the devices and smart paper covering much of the desk, but now they struck him as odd. Has someone been sneaking down here to get work done? Mittelman could sympathize with that, if so. People did have an annoying tendency of interrupting whatever you were doing at any given moment. Under normal circumstances, the shelter would be a good place to get some peace and quiet.

  He tapped the comm control. “What?”

  The desk’s holoscreen flickered to life, displaying a 3D render of a man with almond eyes and dark, neatly trimmed facial hair. Shit. The sensors are probably in this office to show him the same of me.

  Yep. He could see it in the way the man’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling downward slightly. On his end, he’d see a dim room and a bleary Mittelman blinking away the dream he’d been having, which had been much nicer than what reality had to offer him at the present moment.

  “I am Theodore Xu, chief operations officer for Kibishii. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

  “Harold Wills.” The name sprang to his tongue automatically. He was used to giving it.

  “What is your position, Mr. Wills?”

  Something about Xu’s tone told Mittelman it would benefit him to have a higher position than the “logistics specialist” listed on his fake ID. “I’m VP of Frontier Security.” He doubted Xu knew enough about Frontier’s structure to doubt the claim. Rose tried to protect that information as well as she could, divulging it only to clients and encouraging them to keep it under wraps. Less chance of an adversary picking off key personnel, that way.

  Besides, the actual Vice President had been on Earth’s side of the wormhole when it collapsed. So Mittelman doubted he would show up to contest his claim before the end of this conversation.

  Xu nodded, and his shoulders lost some of their tension. “Excellent. I’ve been trying to find someone capable of negotiating the conditions of our aid for some time. The cruiser captain we spoke with initially accepted our help on Frontier’s behalf, though he told us he lacked the authority to conduct any negotiations.”

  Is that so. Maybe Thatcher was savvier than Mittelman had assumed. “Your timing is a little interesting. Traditionally, negotiations are conducted before the service in question is performed. But I take it you’re already helping us repel the Xanthic, are you not?”

  Xu’s face hardened. “Surely you don’t mean to suggest that Kibishii’s aid means nothing to you.”

  Mittelman shrugged. If the Kibishii rep hoped to influence him with an emotional appeal, he was barking up
the wrong tree.

  “New Houston would have fallen without us,” Xu went on. “And Frontier Security would have failed the task assigned to it under your contract with Oasis. I’m approaching these negotiations in good faith, with the expectation that you will recognize the value we have contributed today.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

  Xu’s face grew even stonier as he scrutinized Mittelman. Then, his tension seemed to ebb a little. Maybe he just realized that negotiations have begun.

  “Kibishii has come to Freedom System under the pretext of officially welcoming you to the Daybreak Combine. But considering we came with three troop ships’ worth of marines, it’s probably already clear to you that our true intentions go deeper than that.”

  Mittelman blinked. Daybreak Combine. He’d heard whisperings that the super-alliance Simon Moll had invited Frontier into was coming together at a fast pace, but from the way Xu was talking, the arrangement had already been formalized. “Clearly,” he agreed, doing his best to hide his surprise.

  “Kibishii’s board of directors recognize the necessity for corporations to band together, and so we support the formation of the Combine…in principle. But we already have a problem with how they’re handling certain matters.”

  “What matters?”

  “One in particular. As you likely know, Kibishii specializes in discreet troop movement, made possible by the proprietary stealth tech all our troop ships employ. But we’re not the only corp in Daybreak who specializes in stealth. Meridian does as well.”

  “So…what? You don’t want to share an alliance with your competition? Is that it?”

  Xu’s forehead bunched. “Not at all. We view the super-alliance’s security benefits as far weightier than the drawbacks of a friendly relationship with our competition. It is Meridian that appears to have the problem.”

 

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