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Rika Triumphant

Page 8

by M. D. Cooper


  The women’s eyes widened, and fear replaced her smug officiousness.

  Rika didn’t ease up. “When you’re trying to redeem yourself from spending most of your life as a mutilated killing machine, then you can say whatever you want about my motives. But until then, why don’t you shut your fucking trap?”

  “I—” Major Dala began, but Rika held up a hand.

  “When the Nietzscheans come—and they will come—I’d better see your altruistic ass on the front lines, not cowering behind your administrivia.”

  Rika turned and walked away, worry about future complications edging out the satisfaction yelling at the woman had granted.

  Kelly said as she placed a crate inside Barne’s assault craft.

  Rika sighed and put her helmet back on.

  Crunch added from where he stood at the back of the Marauder ship.

  Rika checked the ETA on the pinnace from the Golden Lark, and found it was caught up in an air traffic control mess of epic proportions. She sent a message for the ship to meet them at the training facility. It would be more efficacious to transfer Ferris and Shoshin there.

 

  Rika picked up the pace, jogging toward Barne’s ship.

  “Wait! Captain, we need you to stay onsite until our investigative team arrives,” Dala called out.

  “I have wounded, and your ATC is a disaster,” Rika called over her shoulder. “Your people know where to find me.”

  “I don’t, where is it?”

  Rika laughed as she stepped aboard the assault craft and turned to watch Dala rushing toward her. “Why don’t you shove your head further up your CO’s ass? Maybe your answer is in there.”

  Dala didn’t have a chance to reply before Barne ignited the ship’s grav drive, pulling the assault craft into the air. Once they’d cleared the buildings, he poured on the thrust. Rika couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t even bother to send in a flight path to the Iapetan ATC.

  LAYERED CONCERNS

  STELLAR DATE: 04.22.8949 (Adjusted Gregorian)

  LOCATION: Marauder Training Compound

  REGION: Iapetus, Hercules System, Septhian Alliance

  “You sure know how to make an entrance,” Barne said as he led Rika into the training facility’s command building.

  The Golden Lark’s pinnace had already collected Ferris and Shoshin, taking them back up to the ship for repairs and surgery. Despite his ability to fire the two missiles at the enemy’s overwatch ship, Shoshin had suffered significant damage from the crash. His left arm had been shorn off, and one of his legs was crushed. The wireless transmitters in his helmet had been destroyed, as had one of his internal batteries.

  He was a mech’s mech, though. Not a word of complaint; just a visible eagerness to be repaired and take the fight to whoever had organized the attack.

  Kelly and Crunch were visiting the base’s quartermaster for light refit and repair before joining the other mechs already on the base, who were currently patrolling the perimeter—neither Rika nor Barne intended to be caught with their pants down again.

  “It takes years of practice.” Rika gave Barne a belated reply as she followed him into the squat building on the southern side of the compound. “And a strong dislike for bureaucratic bullshit.”

  Barne chuckled and nodded as he turned a corner and walked down a hall lined with empty offices. “Major Dala’s not a significant player in the local power structure, but her CO, Colonel Zim is. Honestly, her behavior is probably just a conditioned response to dealing with him for so long.”

  Niki added.

  Rika held back what she wanted to say about Zim’s HQ and their requests. Barne and Niki weren’t her enemies, and she recognized that she was still on an adrenaline high from combat.

  Getting shot out of the sky had a way of bringing out her aggressive side.

  Barne stopped in front of one of the doors and gestured inside. “Your office, Captain Rika.”

  Rika stepped into the room—which was almost ten times the size of Major Tim’s back on the Golden Lark—and looked it over. There was a desk with a mech-safe chair behind it, a few others in front of the desk, plus a couch along one wall—carbon fiber to ensure it would survive hard, steel asses. In one corner stood an equipment and armor rack, complete with full recharge and resupply.

  “Wow, Top, this is nice. I didn’t know we were going to get this fancy.”

  Barne snorted. “Fancy, my ass. I’ve seen generals with offices that would have put kings to shame. Everything here is about operational efficiency.”

  Rika leaned against the desk and let out a long breath. “OK. Our top priority is to find out who shot at us, and if they’re going to hit us again. Here, or on the ships.”

  “If it’s anywhere, it’ll be here.” Barne sat on the couch and leaned back. “If they could have hit the ships, they would’ve before. Now that they’ve tipped their hand, Major Tim will be on high alert. Guy’s tighter than a jackrabbit’s asshole, so nothing will get through up there.”

  Rika laughed. “Lovely visual.”

  “Seemed to fit, pun intended.”

  Rika rolled her eyes and pushed off her desk to pace across the room. “So what do you think? Niets? Local baddies? Theban military haters?”

  Barne shrugged. “Could be all of the above. A lot of ‘Theban patriots’ left their military after Thebes joined the Septhian Alliance. Some of them are operating as merc outfits to pay the bills, others are not—which makes me think that someone is funneling them money from somewhere. Maybe old military commanders.”

  “And you think that the Niets could be behind it?” Rika asked. “Subterfuge and subversion really isn’t their game.”

  Barne raised an eyebrow. “Except for that little thing last year, where they bamboozled us into almost killing off half the Theban leadership. I think they’ve got a new strategist close to the emperor’s ear. We shouldn’t expect the same old tactics as the war. Times are changing, and so is Nietzschea.”

  “An evolving Nietzschea, just what we need.”

  “With your permission, Captain, I’d like to bring First Platoon and all the DIs down.”

  “You miss Leslie and Chase?” Rika smirked.

  “Always. I want Leslie’s platoon because I know how she operates, but just the one ‘toon because I want to make this compound look like a soft target when it’s anything but.”

  Rika eyed Barne. “How long do you think we have?”

  “Well, they fucked up the local ATC and killed Link towers across half the continent. On top of that, they got SAM launchers on a dozen ships in the harbor. They were smart, too; they knew that would be easier than getting the weapons into the city, but they fired one from that high-rise to push you out over the water.”

  “Making us an easy target,” Rika finished for him. “That was savvy. If Ferris wasn’t a nutjob, we’d all have died out there—or at least gone for a good swim.”

  “Nutjob? What did the Ferryman get up to?”

  “Something very fitting to his name. He took the ship underwater.”

  Barne whistled in appreciation. “He’s gonna win some bets. There’s always been healthy debate about taking one of those dropships underwater.”

  “Well, we lost an engine and crashed.”

  “Hmm…maybe just half points, then.”

  Major Tim’s voice came into her mind. need to talk with you.>

  “Aw, crap. It never rains, it shitstorms.” Rika tapped her head. “Tim’s on the Link. Get Leslie and her platoon down here; don’t bring all the DIs, though. I want people to think the bulk of our forces are still on the ships.”

  A smile crept across Barne’s face, and he gave a sly nod. “I like the way you roll, Captain. I’m on it.”

  Barne left her office, and Rika responded to Major Tim.

 

  The major made a derisive noise.

  Rika replied tonelessly.

 

 

  Major Tim didn’t respond for a moment.

 

  Tim asked.

  Rika was about to deliver a snappy rejoinder when it occurred to her that, despite his general assholeishness, Tim was right.

  Rika tried a new tack.

  Tim replied.

  Niki added.

  Tim suggested.

  Rika had not been aware that David, her P-COG general counsel, had been the one to uncover the Nietzschean subterfuge in the Albany System.

  For that alone, she owed him her thanks.

 

 

  Rika was grateful for the Major’s concern, and told him as much before they closed the connection.

  Niki said.

  Rika drew a deep breath and flopped onto the couch. “Good.”

  * * * * *

  The knock on Rika’s door was sharp and sure. Rika called out ‘Come’, and a moment later David entered, taking in the room with one long sweep of his eyes.

  “Barne works fast, doesn’t he, Captain?” David said as he turned to Rika.

  “That he does, though I understand that a lot of the progress down here came from your keen eye, as well.”

  David shrugged. “I just make sure the contracts are favorable. I may have also spotted some deals here and there.”

  Rika laughed and gestured to one of the chairs. “I wasn’t expecting so much false humility from you, David. Major Tim told me that I have you to thank for not delivering the Theban Alliance to Nietzschea last year.”

  David sat and gave her a warm smile. “It was a group effort. No one’s an island.”

  Rika laughed. “And the humility just keeps on coming. Was I wrong to question it?”

  David reached up and rapped a knuckle on the metal ridges atop of his elongated skull. “A lot of people think I have unfair advantages—or they just think I’m a freak. The right attitude can diffuse a lot of jealousy and ill intent.”

  Rika laughed. “You know…that’s an entirely different class of problem from what mechs have. No one ever accuses us of being unfairly intelligent, and when push comes to shove, they’re happy to put us out front to absorb the bullets.”

  David smiled. It was a kind expression that started with his eyes before his lips began to turn up. “Things aren’t so different for P-COGs, when it comes to evaluating usefulness. Granted, the personal stakes are often not as high as for you. But if I fuck up an assessment or miss a connection, a lot more than just one soldier dies.”

  “I’m starting to understand that pressure in a new way,” Rika said. “I can’t imagine what the Old Man feels.”

  “Weary, I suspect. That man doesn’t just have the Marauders on his shoulders. He’s the last, best hope for Genevia.”

  Rika raised an eyebrow. “This conversation sure took an unexpected turn. What do you mean by that?”

  “When it comes down to it, General Mill is fighting for Genevia. Not the Genevia you grew up in—the one before that. I can barely remember it; I was just a boy when we elected the string of corrupt governments that led us to war with Nietzschea. Not that an honest government could have avoided the war, but I think they could have won it.”

  “But the general remembers that Genevia?” Rika asked.

  “He does.” David nodded somberly. “I believe the spark needed to rebuild Genevia is within him, and him alone. Well, perhaps that’s a bit melodramatic. He fosters the spark in others, but only he has the means and the drive to realize his vision.”

  Rika considered David’s words for a moment, turning them over in her mind and wondering what they really meant.

  Most of her life had been spent either fighting Nietzschea, or living with the grim fact that the enemy had bested her people—who she didn’t like much better than the enemy. Since joining the Marauders, her focus had been on staying the Nietzschean advance toward the Praesepe Cluster.

  After the Nietzscheans were defeated in the Albany System, some talked about what it would be like to drive them back from Genevian space, but most considered that to be nothing more than wishful thinking.

  Even if all Praesepe rose up as one, they couldn’t field a fleet a tenth the size of Nietzschea’s. The only reason why Emperor Constantine hadn’t crushed Septhia already was because his forces were spread thin across his vast empire.

  Everyone really knew that the best chance the nations of the Praesepe Cluster had, was to make an assault too costly to be worth it.

  Finally, she asked, “Does the general really believe that we could defeat Nietzschea at some point?”

  “Genevia was the greatest adversary Nietzschea faced in five hundred years. The conflict weakened them enough that many of the nations on their fringe have formed substantial alliances and are successfully holding them back. If we prove that Constantine can be stopped, then we could form a broader alliance with those nations. One that could crush Nietzschea once and for all.”

  “Those are some great aspirations,” Rika straightened up and sat forward on the sofa. “But for now, we just need to survive whatever is happening here on Iapetus.”

  “Agreed.” David straightened his back and folded his hands on his lap. “I’ve been reviewing the data as we spoke, and I agree with your assessment that a second attack is likely. I also believe that you were the intended target of the attack. The ordnance expended to take down your dropship exceeded the material value of the ship and its contents by over threefold.”

  “What about the value of four mechs?” Rika asked. “We’re worth a lot.”

  David nodded. “Yes, but if the attackers k
new that there were four mechs aboard, they would not have sent such a small force after you. I also factored the likelihood of capturing mechs in usable condition into my valuation. Mech capture is very rare.”

  Rika laughed. “Yeah, we tend to go down fighting. Capture is not a favorable outcome for us.” David nodded soberly, and Rika realized the same was likely true for P-COGs. “So, what if our attacker isn’t as smart as you and figured they’d get a functional mech in the deal?”

  David’s brow furrowed, and he wiggled his fingers where they lay folded on his lap. “Maybe it would be a wash. I can’t assume they’re too stupid; they did manage to do a number on the local Iapetan defenses and infrastructure.”

  “Or they know the right people and have money.”

  “You’re no slouch at this twisted logic, either, Captain Rika.”

  “Survival trait. Thing is, for me, it all breaks down at some point. Ultimately, I always have to go with my gut.”

  “No one can isolate all variables.” David shrugged and leaned back in his chair, unfolding his hands and placing them palms down on his legs. He didn’t seem to know what to do with them half the time. “Nothing is perfectly certain. Ultimately, with everything, we all have to make a call. Go with our gut, as you say.”

  “So what does your gut say?” Rika asked

  “That—at this point—Nietzschean influence is immaterial. There are local elements at work, and they are connected. Thebans here on Iapetus want you dead, and those Thebans are both well-funded and have ties to influential people.”

  “So we wait for the next attack?” Rika asked.

  “No defense has a single element, and rarely does a victory come from a single offense. I believe that Niki should provide the data to Major Dala—scrubbed in small, but noticeable ways—to give them something. Their response, both Dala’s and Zim’s HQ in general, will tell you much. At the same time, I shall reach out to Dala and foster a relationship. I’ve studied her activities on the local nets and feed; she likes modified men, has a thing for big brains like mine. It’s not her main turn-on, but it will get me in the door.”

 

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