by M. D. Cooper
“Oh hell yeah.” Heather barked a laugh and slapped Chase on the back. “You and I are gonna have a hell of a time.”
“Chase is staying here,” Rika said. “You’re in command this time, Colonel Heather.”
“Oh ho! Colonel?” the SMI cackled. “Stars, today just keeps getting better and better.”
Rika rolled her eyes and laughed at the giddy mech. “Get out of here and make sure your ship is ready to go. Last I heard, Bondo was still working on getting the stasis shields calibrated.”
“Oh we’ll be ready.” Heather was already striding across the room and called back over her shoulder, “Trust me, the Niets are gonna wish they’d never fucked with Chad.”
A moment later, she was out of the room, and Barne shook his head, laughing quietly. “You know she’s from Chad, right?”
Rika gave the general a smile and winked. “You don’t say?”
INSYSTEM
STELLAR DATE: 06.08.8950 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: ViperTalon, approaching Babylon
REGION: Genevia System, New Genevian Alliance
“I thought you wanted to get back to Burroughs and aid in the defense of Chad,” Rajiz said as he settled into a chair in the galley, eyeing Rachella over the rim of his coffee cup.
“I did.” She nodded while buttering her toast at the counter. “But that was when I wasn’t sure if the Marauders would send aid. With their jump gates, they’ll have been there for over a week by the time we brake and boost back out on a vector for Burroughs.”
“Sure.” Rajiz shrugged. “Isn’t it your home, though? Chad?”
“No,” Rachella shook her head. “I’m actually from Genevia, on Shaya. The PLI has me working all over, and since I’m here, I need to check on a few things.”
“Wait a second,” Rajiz set his cup down. “I thought that the PLI is just a front for the resistance. If that’s the case, why do you need to run ops here? There’s nothing to resist.”
Rachella regarded him silently for a moment and then took a bite of her toast, chewing thoughtfully before answering.
“Well, the Marauders are mercs, and from what I hear, they’ve signed Genevia on to some sort of galactic war. They might need some resisting as well.”
“I highly doubt that the war is galactic,” Rajiz replied. “Humanity is barely past the edges of the Orion Arm.”
“You need to read the fine print, Captain.” She grabbed her plate and glass of orange juice, joining him at the table. “According to this Scipio Alliance we’ve bound ourselves to, humanity is in the Sagittarius and Perseus Arms as well.”
“Oh?” Rajiz frowned. “I must have glossed over that part. I mean, you’re right, it seems like a pretty big conflict, but that doesn’t really matter.”
“It doesn’t?” Rachella appeared genuinely surprised.
“No, not really. I’m told that Magnus Rika has her mandate to secure Genevia and take down Nietzschea. However, from the feeds I was reading, that’s been the Marauder’s plan all along, so this is more like an alliance of convenience—one that has kitted out their ships pretty nicely, I might add.”
“Still doesn’t mean they’re altruistic,” Rachella countered. “You’d do well to remember that. There was a reason we kept mechs on a short leash during the war.”
“A K1R once saved my entire platoon,” Rajiz replied with a languid shrug.
He wondered if Rachella and her two guards might have planned to stay in the Genevia System all alone. What is their ulterior motive?
“Sure, mechs saved a lot of us. But they were under orders and Discipline.”
“These mechs aren’t, and they’re doing pretty damn well. Makes me think we might have done things backwards during the war.”
Rachella snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” Rajiz leant forward. “We lost the war. Saying we shouldn’t have done things differently is ludicrous. Especially when these Marauders are stomping on the Niets over and over.”
“I don’t trust their stated reasoning, sorry,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Rajiz rose and downed the rest of his coffee. “Yeah, well, I don’t trust yours. When we get to Hanging Gardens Station, you’re off my ship. Got it?”
For a moment, he thought that Rachella was going to fight him on the decision, but then she nodded.
“Yeah. Fine.”
BECKY’S BAD DAY
STELLAR DATE: 06.08.8950 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Hanging Gardens Station, Babylon
REGION: Genevia System, New Genevian Alliance
Becky stood on the station’s plas deck, a scowl etched into her delicate features as she watched the service crew connect fuel lines to her ship.
“Manual hookups,” she muttered. “Stars, where am I? The asscrack of nowhere?”
“The station’s all backed up after the fighting nearby,” Dara said from her side. “I know it’s weird to be down on commercial docks, but once we get fueled up, we’ll be gone.”
The captain of the Slyfe nodded absently as she tried to come up with what could be a safer harbor than Genevia. A modicum of worry for what her wife might be facing in the Parsons System flitted about in the back of her mind, but Becky knew that Geni could handle pretty much anything—especially with her corporate fleet to protect herself.
“I’m the one out here in danger,” she whispered.
“Pardon?” Dara asked. “What danger?”
“What danger?” Becky squeaked. “There’s danger all around us! We’re in danger central. Any one of these people passing by us could be unsavory criminals, ready to rob us or worse.”
“I do tend to like unsavory types,” Dara said with a soft sigh. “Too bad we never get to spend much time with them.”
“You need to stop thinking with your clam.” Becky threw a disapproving glance at Dara. “I don’t think we should leave the Genevia System, but I don’t want to stay here. We should get to Belgium. I hear there are going to be some state parties. I bet we could get into them.”
“Becky.” Dara’s tone was filled with disapproval. “There’s a war going on, how can you think of parties?”
“State parties,” she corrected. “Trust me, those are going to be the safest places in the system. We just need to get there and get on the list.”
“How do you propose to do that?”
“Why, Dara!” Becky placed a hand on her chest. “The same way I do everything. I unleash my charm.”
“So that’s what we’re calling it now?”
* * * * *
Kora stepped off the transport with Gary at her side. The pair shared a look as they turned to the right and began walking through the passenger terminal.
The last few weeks had been surreal, seeing the Nietzscheans defeated and New Genevia established under Rika. What was even stranger, however, was that life just seemed to go on for most people, with almost no real change.
Except there was a change. Somehow, the atmosphere seemed lighter than it had the last time she’d been through Hanging Gardens. The crowds were more vocal, people smiling at one another and small groups forming to chat.
Gary shrugged, smiling at a group who was handing out flowers, but declining
to take one.
The pair reached the maglev terminal and boarded a train bound for the commercial docks, where the Jay Rig was berthed.
Kora considered that, flipping through the STC’s logs until something jumped out.
Gary let out a low whistle.
The train pulled away from the station and began to pick up speed as it followed the curve of the docking ring, shifting laterally across the great wheel to the commercial docks.
* * * * *
Rajiz watched as Rachella and her two goons—who he’d grown to like over the past few days—got ready to depart from the ship.
Something had changed in the woman’s demeanor in the prior hour. She’d sent and received a few messages, and after each one, her smile had faded a little more. Now her brow was furrowed with a deep scowl, and she seemed to be snapping at Jim and Jerry more than usual.
Initially, the plan had been for her to refuel and then return to Burroughs, but that had changed also changed. She hadn’t said what her next stop was, but Rajiz didn’t really care that much. Not having to make a trip back to Chad—especially with the Niets and Marauders fighting in the system—was a gift he wasn’t going to question.
She glanced back at him where he stood in the corridor with Avi at his side.
“So where are you going next?” she asked, echoing his thoughts.
“Well, I still have to deliver that little knickknack we picked up from the Niets on Chad,” he replied. “That’ll square me away with Kershaw, and then when things have calmed down, I’ll pass back through Burroughs to get what the PLI owes me.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “The way we left it, you kind of work for the PLI now.”
Rajiz snorted. “I only agreed to that nonsense to get out of the system—and maybe I had a bit of bleedingheartitis for all those poor schleps on Chad. But let’s be perfectly clear, Rachella, the ViperTalon is certainly open for contracts, but no one owns her but me.”
The PLI woman rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way. Working for my people could have opened a lot of doors.”
“You know what I think?” Rajiz asked, taking a step closer to her. “I think that the PLI got too used to the criminal enterprise aspects of their resistance, and a bit too cavalier about how much the lives of the people really mattered.”
“Oh?” She lifted a doubting brow. “And you’re a man of the people?”
“Fuck no.” Rajiz shook his head. “I don’t pretend to be anything I’m not.”
They stared at one another for a few seconds, and then the light above the airlock turned green, signaling that the ship had matched station pressure.
“Thanks for the ride, Captain.” Then she was gone.
“Good riddance,” Avi muttered. “I never liked her.”
“You never like anyone,” Rajiz muttered as he turned and walked up the corridor.
“Not true,” she called after. “I like you.”
Rajiz had just made it to the ladder when Gero messaged him.
Gero snorted.
Rajiz groaned and turned back, nearly running into Avi. “Stars, woman, what are you doing following me?”
“Uh…going back up to the bridge? I want to start the preflight early so that as soon as the station’s topped us off, we can get out of here. I don’t like being this close to Babylon.”
The captain chuckled. “Is it those old spacer stories about there being dragons in the clouds?”
“No,” she blushed, shaking her head. “Just too close to where the fighting’s been lately.”
“Sure,” Rajiz winked at her as he walked past and returned to the airlock.
Once there, he saw a tall woman who did have a bit of the ‘cocksure cop’ look, and a man who Gero had correctly pegged as a soldier.
The captain didn’t reply, instead extending his hand to the woman as he walked through the airlock. “Captain Rajiz, I’m told you’d like to speak to me?”
“Kora,” she shook his hand. “This is Gary. This is the sort of chat that we’d rather go in for.”
“In?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Do you mean ‘aboard’?”
“Sure,” she nodded. “That.”
Something about her said that she wasn’t the woman to split hairs with over spacer terms, and he nodded, stepping back and gesturing for her to enter the ship.
Once they were around the corner, the woman stopped and folded her arms across her chest. “OK, Captain. Spill it. What are you really doing here?”
HELL HATH NO FURY
STELLAR DATE: 06.08.8950 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: GMS Pinnacle, Belgium
REGION: Genevia System, New Genevian Alliance
Heather drummed her fingers impatiently on the arm of her command chair, still getting used to the cavernous bridge aboard the Marauders’ Fury—which she still privately thought of as the The Even More Furious Lance.
Despite her desire to be underway in an hour, Bondo had informed her that the Lance still didn’t have its jump mirror recalibrated after plowing through Babylon’s clouds.
What followed was four hours of sitting in front of the Belgium jump gate array, waiting for the engineer to proclaim himself satisfied with the mirror’s alignment.
Heather sent the lieutenant a mental image of her foot kicking him in the ass.
The engineer sent a tired laugh and then a feeling of acknowledgment.
Heather snorted.
The engineer barked a laugh.
Heather didn’t reply to the lieutenant, and instead addressed Chief Garth. “The old man in the ass-end of our glorious new ship tells me we’re good to go.”
“Isn’t he in the bow, Colonel?” Garth asked. “I mean, that’s where the mirror is.”
“Whatever, it sounded better that way,” she replied. “Get us lined up. Chief Ona, let the gate control know that we’re ready to jump
“Yes ma’am!” Ona’s tone was chipper, and she set to her task. “I can’t wait for the Niets to lose their shit when they realize this ship isn’t on their side.”
Potter said.
“Look at you, Potter,” Heather laughed. “All vindictive.”
“People,” Garth muttered. “Lots and lots of people.”
“Well, there are exactly eleven of us,” Heather said. “We’ll have to make do.”
