by M. D. Cooper
“Corporal!” A private jogged past the garbage truck. “LT says he wants the gate shut.”
The woman looked at the short stretch between the gate and the road and the garbage truck, blowing out a long breath, knowing there wasn’t room for the truck to pull out of the compound. “OK, buddy, back it up. We’ll have to wait inside till their hauler is towed.”
The man grunted something unintelligible and slouched back to his truck.
The corporal stared at Rajiz and Avi for a minute before she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “You two, inside. It’s against policy to allow anyone to loiter outside the gate.”
Rajiz nodded as he walked into the compound, noting that there was activity everywhere—and not the normal kind. Niets were scurrying about like ants whose hill had been kicked.
“Busy day,” he said to the corporal, keeping the woman’s attention on him as Avi walked around the garbage truck, disappearing between the rows of equipment stacked next to the gate.
“Could say that,” the corporal muttered. “Lot going on.”
“Really?” Rajiz asked, wondering if the activity in the compound had anything to do with the rumors coming out of the Genevia System—rumors of a significant Nietzschean defeat. “You all going on an exercise?”
“You could say that.”
“Where to?” The garbage truck driver leant out his window and stared down at the pair.
“Nonayourbusinesswhere,” the corporal shot back. “Look, just stay where you are while—”
“Wait a second.” Rajiz nodded toward a hauler a hundred meters away. “Is that thing loaded with Razers?”
“What’s a Razer?” the driver asked.
“No,” the corporal blurted. “Just standard loadout surveillance drones.”
Rajiz passed his optical feed back to Gero.
There was a brief pause, then the engineer gave a noncommittal grunt.
The ViperTalon’s captain eyed the arrowhead-shaped drones and spotted what Gero had pointed out.
Rajiz ran a hand through his hair, glad that the garbage truck driver was keeping the corporal engaged in small talk.
The ViperTalon’s captain looked over the bustling compound, noting that a group of techs were pulling Razers off the hauler, and moving to them to a staging area were several of the drones were being configured for flight.
Rajiz chuckled.
“Where were you?” the corporal asked.
“Trying to get upwind,” she retorted. “No chance of that, though.”
“Oh, tow’s here early,” Rajiz interrupted, a broad smile on his lips. “If you open the gate up, we’ll get out of your hair.”
The Nietzschean’s eyes darted to the side, and then she nodded. “OK, yeah, let’s get this show on the road.”
Five minutes later, Rajiz and Avi were sitting in the back of the tow truck, keeping an eye on the garbage hauler that was following them down the road.
Rajiz sucked in a slow, deep breath.
Avi pursed her lips and her gaze swept across Corinth City.
A TERRIBLE VIEW
STELLAR DATE: 06.03.8950 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Mount Genevia, Belgium
REGION: Genevia System, New Genevian Alliance
Tremon’s eyes grew wide as the visuals coming from Babylon showed a beam burst through the planet’s cloudtops and strike the Fury Lance.
“Shit….” He whispered the word and pursed his lips.
The mechs’ attack craft had already left the ship, but he had no way of knowing if Rika was on the Lance, or if she’d dropped with her company.
A hand settled on his shoulder, and he glanced in surprise at Detective Kora, having forgotten she was present.
“Don’t worry. There’s no way Rika was on that thing,” she said. “You know she wouldn’t stay behind.”
He closed his eyes and nodded before replying, “You’re right. But still…Heather, Bondo, and half a dozen other Marauders I count as family will have been aboard.”
“It’s breaking up slowly.” Kora activated a holo on the balcony where the pair stood. “They might get off.”
The former president nodded, and then the realization hit that the title granted him by Rika placed him at the top of the civilian government if she was dead.
Tremon gave a slow nod, transmitting his resigned acknowledgment over the Link.
“Two destroyers are on their way,” Tremon said to Kora, who was staring at him intently. “We’ll have to hope for the best.”
“No hope necessary,” Kora replied. “I’ve soaked up every bit of vid there is on Queen Rika. She’ll come out swinging. No way she won’t.”
A wary smile settled on Tremon’s lips. “Well, history is on your side. Not many people out there have weathered what she has.”
“And come out smiling.” Kora gave Tremon one of her own, though it was sharper and toothier than his.
“I know you were to report on Oda and Arla’s network,” he said, returning them to their original reason for meeting, “but I have a thousand people burning up my Link right now. Stars, I need a press secretary.”
“Don’t even think of me for that,” she replied. “I’d probably be up for murder charges in a week.”
“Take you that long?” Tremon cocked an eyebrow.
“Funny. OK, I can give you the abbreviated version and then get out of your hair.”
He nodded for her to continue, dismissing the holodisplay that showed the spreading wreckage of the Fury Lance.
“So far as I can tell, Oda really did spend the past decade or so tucked away inside of the Refuge. Arla, however, has been flitting about a few different systems, establishing a resistance called the PLI.”
“Seriously? She was doing something altruistic?”
Kora shrugged. “Maybe less altruistic, and more like she just couldn’t let power go and had to be in charge of something. Word is that she wasn’t exactly the nicest resistance leader. Though she was effective.”
“This doesn’t surprise me. Rika’s right, if it wasn’t for our general fear of our own mechs during the war, we could have won. Arla was a big part of that—the fear, that is.”
Kora shrugged. “Maybe. I was just a kid then, I didn’t have a real good view of what was going on.”
Tremon had never checked Kora’s age, and was surprised to see that she was only twenty-five. She had the eyes of a hundred-year-old, though that was common amongst much of the younger generation who had grown up during the war.
“You from the Genevia System?” he asked.
“No,” Kora shook her head. “From Gerra. Always thought about going back, but if what we hear from that captain on the Slythe is true, I should count my lucky stars that I didn’t.”
“Niets,” Tremon muttered. “They claim to be a master race, but it’s more like they ran a breeding program for assholes.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure. The PD in Jague isn’t sure what to do now that we don’t have the Niets barking orders. Taking a lot of headspace to make the adjustment.”
“I can imagine. So, if Arla was a bigwig in a multi-system resistance, that means she’s going to have a lot of loyalists—and we might have just pissed off the people who’d be our best allies.”
“I’m going to try to suss that out,” Kora said. “I’ve got a few contacts who might be able to put me in touch with the resistance members that brought her insystem.”
“I’ll get you in touch with Gary and Annie,” Tremon added. “Annie has been working insystem for some time, she might have known some other operatives. Gary worked top-side security at the Refuge, so he had to have been privy to a lot of the comings and goings there. If there’s a larger resistance network across the nearby stars, we’re going to need to know who to work with when we show up to rescue them.”
“How’s that going?”
“Well, you’ll be happy to know that Captain Travis is leading a seven-ship battlegroup to Gerra, and we’re prepping fleets to jump to Burroughs, Oran, and Morres. Nothing huge, but hopefully enough to scare off the Niets before they make too big a mess.”
“What about Genevia?” Kora asked. “I heard that we were worried the Niets would do a drive-by on the outer system if we depleted our forces here too much.”
Tremon glanced at Kora, impressed that she seemed to know everything that was going on—or nearly everything.
“There’s a surprise waiting for them if they try that, but Rika’s ordered me to keep it hush-hush.”
The detective laughed. “Well, far be it from me to run afoul of our new queen.”
“You know she hates that, right?”
Kora snorted. “ ‘Queen’ is a thousand times better than ‘magnus’. She should be thanking us.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know that,” Tremon replied, surprised at how certain he felt that Rika would survive whatever was going on around Babylon. “I’ve sent a message to Gary. He’s here at the estate, if you want to meet him. Annie’s on her way out to the heliopause jump gates, so might take a bit longer to hear back from her.”
Kora nodded and turned to walk away. “Thanks for the intros. I’ll get the intel we need, don’t worry.”
The chancellor snorted. “What’s there to worry about?”
THE RIGHT CHOICE
STELLAR DATE: 06.03.8950 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Corinth City, Chad
REGION: Burroughs System, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
The engineer made a sound like he was sucking in a nervous breath.
There was no response, and the captain closed his eyes for a moment, begging the stars to give him patience.
That was about the furthest thing from the truth, but Rajiz didn’t push the issue.
Avi snorted.
look as the tower stopped and the pair got out. “Don’t rile her up.”
“I’d never do something like that.”
“If by ‘never’, you’re using an alternate definition that means always….”
Avi placed a hand over her chest. “You malign me, Captain,”
“Occupational hazard,” Rajiz said absently as a mechanic came out of the shop and handed him a tablet.
The captain authed with it and passed a secure token indicating acknowledgment of transfer to the repair shop.
“Breaking groundcars is a hazard?” the mechanic asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“Could be,” Rajiz gave a noncommittal shrug. “Depends on where they break.”
The mechanic grunted in response and then waved to the tow driver to drop the groundcar next to two others.
The pair of thieves turned and walked down the street toward the rendezvous, keeping their movements casual as they passed by the few pedestrians in the commercial area that lay to the north of the spaceport.
“Oh, now that smells good,” Avi said as they walked past a small coffee shop. “I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Whose fault is that?” Rajiz asked. “We’re on a schedule here. No time for donuts.”
Avi gave him a measuring look. “It’s like I don’t even know you! We have a seven-minute buffer, we can get donuts.”
He switched to the Link.
Rajiz groaned as Avi made a hard right and walked into the donut shop.
