The Wendira were a Core Power, still far richer and more powerful than any Arm Power. So, however, were the Laians—and the oddities of the galaxy were such that the Imperium had ended up absorbing the descendants of the losers of the Laian civil war.
Somehow, the fight over that—and it had been an actual fight, with an Imperial task force getting mauled by a Laian war-dreadnought—had resulted in first a nonaggression agreement and now a tentative defensive alliance.
But the Wendira-Laian border was a wall of dead systems where the two powers had unleashed dozens of starkillers. The Imperium didn’t want to get dragged into a war between them—and from what Davor was saying, it sounded to Rin like they were expecting to.
“With all of those commitments in play, my understanding is that there are no capital ships to spare,” Davor told them. “That doesn’t leave this room. Captain Casimir is already aware of everything I am and has likely followed the same currents.
“We must deal with this situation with the resources we have, as best as we can. I’d like a full briefing on everything your people have discovered about these rogue Precursors and the Children, Dr. Dunst.”
Rin nodded. He’d have to check the Echelon Lord’s clearances first, but he wasn’t going to say that. He’d been warned when he’d been read in on the Dragon Protocols that telling people, especially military officers, that you had secrets you couldn’t share was a bad idea.
He wasn’t always good at that part, but he knew better than to accidentally argue with a flag officer!
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I got your note from Kosha Station,” Victoria Antonova’s holographic image told Morgan. “What have I told you about getting yourself hurt, Morgan?”
The tall blonde Militia officer—executive officer of an orbital battle platform above Mars these days—looked good to Morgan. She was also sporting a new diamond ring on her left hand, but Morgan was trying not to think about that too hard.
“We’d send a care package if we could, but we’re a long damn way away,” Victoria continued. “Shelly and I send our love. Keep us up to date, okay? Both of us can swing vacation if you end up on medical leave somewhere; there’s rules for that kind of thing.”
Morgan snorted. Even if Terra law hadn’t improved on handling consensual polyamory before the Annexation, Imperial law had to handle species that required as many as five different sexes to have children. Not to mention cultural differences like, for example, the Laians regarding monogamy about the same way humans regarded incest.
Victoria was formally and officially married to Shelly now—Morgan wasn’t sure if Shelly had taken Victoria’s last name, but the message header showed Victoria hadn’t changed hers—but she and Morgan were still registered as long-term partners with both of their services.
“We missed you at the wedding,” Victoria said softly. “I…I know it’s hard for you, but I still wish you could have been here. This posting, at the other end of the damn Imperium…it’s not good for any of us, I don’t think.”
She shook her head.
“Only Megan attended out of your sisters, even. I think they all understand, but they were grumpy enough that they didn’t prioritize it over the ten billion and one duties your mother gives them. Leah and Carol sent a card and a gift. Alexis…isn’t speaking to me.”
That got a laugh from Morgan. She was always hesitant to open Victoria’s messages these days, so the laugh was good. It wasn’t really funny or good that Morgan’s not-quite-twenty-year-old youngest half-sister wasn’t speaking to her girlfriend, but Victoria’s plaintive, exasperated acceptance was still charming.
Morgan wasn’t even sure that Alexis was cold-shouldering Victoria over the wedding. The youngest of the Bond daughters, Alexis was in many ways the most mercurial of Morgan’s four half-siblings—and buried in the middle of a triple degree in business, law, and art.
“Look, I’m pretty damn sure that you took a posting at the ass end of nowhere to give me and Shelly space,” Victoria continued. “Someone had to do the job, yes, but I know the Imperium prefers not to take people quite that far away from their registered partners if possible.
“So you volunteered. I know. I understand. I just want you to understand that I still love you. Just as much as I love Shelly. It’s just…she’s here and you’re not. Next time you’re back, I’ll prove to you that nothing has changed, okay?”
Morgan had to smile at that. She and Victoria had spent a large portion of their communications over the years reassuring each other that things were still good and still going to work out. It didn’t seem like that was going to change just because one of them had married.
“And since I know you very well, and we’re all quite clear on what’s allowed,” Shelly continued, “I think you need to tell me about this archeologist you got shot at for.”
“Welcome back, sir.”
“I didn’t go anywhere, Commander Rogers,” Morgan told her executive officer as she crossed the bridge. “What’s the daily?”
“The morning report from the yards says they’re making faster progress than we dared hope,” the redheaded First Sword told her boss. “They’ve carved a full cycle off the estimate, and we’re looking at two more cycles at most before we’re ready to fly again.”
“Do we have our armor back yet?” Morgan asked.
“Not yet,” Rogers admitted. “All of our guns are back online, and they’re mostly working on cleaning up the damage they made to fix the damage we already had at this point.”
“Isn’t that how it goes,” Morgan said with a sigh. She’d had to get her hair recut to cover the bald spot the doctors had shaved away to insert a probe into her skull. Nanites and regeneration matrix were wonderful things, but they needed to be injected close to where they had to work.
“Any news from Serene Guidance?” she asked as her First Sword rose to give up the command seat.
“Nothing,” Rogers said quietly. “They’re not officially overdue, hyperspace being what it is, but we’re into the ninth sigma for possible emergences.”
Which meant they were into the final half-cycle countdown for declaring the destroyer overdue. Ships did sometimes just go missing in hyperspace. Sometimes. Morgan was aware of seven incidents in the Imperium’s entire history.
“Isk should have transmitted the moment he left hyperspace,” she said aloud. “And he should be there. Even if they knew exactly where Guidance was going to emerge, she should still have transmitted.”
That was one of the many advantages of the hyperfold communicator, after all. When Morgan’s stepmother had been actively involved in warfare, they wouldn’t have known what Isk had found until the destroyer returned. Now, though, the Yin should have reported in the moment he arrived at the target system.
Morgan brought up the map and stared at it in frustration.
“Two cycles till we’re combat-ready, huh?” she asked.
“That’s the current estimate. I wouldn’t count on anything less than three, really,” Rogers warned.
“And twenty-one cycles after that before we get reinforcements,” Morgan murmured. “I miss Jean Villeneuve now.” She chuckled. “Both of them.”
Her one and only executive officer role in the Imperial Navy had been aboard the superbattleship named for her honorary uncle. She’d take the actual Jean Villeneuve back at any opportunity, but the twenty-megaton warship with a full arsenal of hypermissile launchers would probably be more useful today.
Probably.
“What do we do, sir?”
“Nothing, for two cycles,” Morgan replied. “In those two cycles, I’m going to talk to the Echelon Lord and get clearance to take Defiance out. If something stopped Serene Guidance from reporting in, then there is something there and we need to investigate it.”
She shook her head and studied the star chart grimly.
“And while Isk is a perfectly competent officer, Defiance is two generations newer and six times the size of Serene Guidance.
If nothing else, I’m confident we can get a message out.”
“It’s good to see you up and well, Captain Casimir,” Davor told her. “How are your waters?”
“My head still itches in places I’m not used to feeling anything,” Morgan admitted. Terran regeneration technology had been near-miraculous even before the Imperium had arrived. It had been good enough, in fact, that the entire concept of the self-growing “regeneration matrix” had actually been poached and was now used across the Imperium.
Combined with Imperial nanotech to fix fractures and tears, it was a near-perfect package for the repair of most physical traumas. Less so for illnesses and wonky genetics, sadly, but if an Imperial doctor got to someone before they passed, very few injuries would be fatal.
But the psychosomatic side effects had to be experienced to be believed.
“And your ship, Captain?”
“Defiance is less than two cycles from deployment readiness, according to the yardmaster,” Morgan replied instantly. “Close enough, sir, that I believe we should be discussing her next mission.”
“I want to hold Defiance here, to cover Kosha Station,” the Echelon Lord admitted. “With the attack on you, I will admit that the waters around here are looking darker and more dangerous than I would prefer.”
Kosha Station did have two escorting defensive platforms and a small defensive constellation. The presence of HSM launchers on both platforms meant the setup was more dangerous than it looked, but Morgan was still comfortably confident that Defiance could take the station without much difficulty.
“Have you heard from Serene Guidance, sir?” she asked.
“No. Commander Isk and his ship are officially overdue and assumed lost,” Davor admitted, the translator picking up the sad tone. “One hundred and eighty-six sentients, Captain. If they are dead, which is the most likely situation, these Children will pay.”
“Agreed, sir. Defiance is our most readily deployed mobile asset.”
Not least because the available lighter ships were dealing with the leftovers of her first two encounters with the Children. Morgan didn’t envy the Captain tasked with hauling several of the bioships back to Kosha Station for expert dissection.
“Yes.” Davor’s single word hung on the channel as the Ivida tapped her fingers rapidly on her stone desk. “I don’t like it, Captain. We don’t know what happened to Commander Isk, and Defiance is also our most valuable asset.
“The failure to communicate is the most concerning aspect. Unless they were ambushed immediately on emergence, Isk should still have been able to transmit home.”
“I think we need to build an early dropout into the next investigation,” Morgan suggested. “If we check in a cycle or half-cyle before we reach the system, you’ll at least know it was the target system that was the problem.”
“I would still rather not lose one of the Imperium’s most modern heavy cruisers and the clan-child of a Duchess,” Davor said drily.
“I am more than Duchess Bond’s daughter,” Morgan snapped before she could stop herself. “I am an officer of the Imperial Navy, sir, and I can see my duty here.”
“Your duty is to follow my orders,” the Ivida replied with a harsh snap of her teeth. “But you are correct. I cannot make my choices based on your parentage; I apologize.”
“Then Defiance will deploy?” Morgan asked.
“I will have the orders drafted and we will discuss.” Davor raised a hand. “Given the situation and the likelihood of an encounter with Alava artifacts, I believe you will need an expert on hand.”
Morgan managed not to point out that she was one of the better experts the Navy had on the topic, having been in the heart of the Taljzi Campaigns and being either cleared or aware of everything to do with the Mesharom Archive. She was silent because she knew there was a better expert on hand—the only person she’d ever known to regularly refer to the Precursors by their name. Like Echelon Lord Davor just had.
“I will speak to Dr. Dunst and, if he is willing, I will assign him to you as a civilian advisor.”
It wasn’t a question and Morgan agreed with the logic. It might cause her some personal awkwardness, but that was life. Hopefully, the doctor could be both understanding and patient.
It seemed likely.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Here’s where we leave you, Doctor,” the Marine standing at Rin’s left side told him.
Three Marines had accompanied Rin every day since the attack. They’d rotated out, obviously, but he was still surprised at Lance Winchester’s announcement. He’d assumed that the Marines, human to a one, had been detached from Defiance’s detail.
“Lance?” he asked.
“We’re from base security,” Winchester told him, nodding toward the Defiance Marines surrounding them. They were holding an extended perimeter around the access tubes to the heavy cruiser, even inside the naval base.
“Defiance’s Marines will take over your security now, under Battalion Commander Vichy’s orders. Our AO ends at the airlock.”
Technically, Rin was relatively sure that the Area of Operations for Vichy’s Marines also ended at the airlock, but no one was blinking at the squad spread out around the entrance to their ship.
“All right,” he allowed. “Thank you, Lance Winchester, Marine Pek, Marine Gupta. If you could pass my thanks on to the other Marines, I’d appreciate it.”
“I can do that, sir,” Winchester confirmed, passing Rin’s luggage—a single wheeled case—over to one of Defiance’s Marines without asking.
“The doctor’s an easy-enough package,” he continued to the Defiance Marine. “Don’t make his life too hard.”
“If his life gets hard on this trip, we have much bigger problems,” the Lance from Rin’s destination said with a chuckle. “You’re expected, Dr. Dunst. If you’ll come with me, someone is waiting to take your bag and show you to your quarters.”
Rin bowed slightly.
“Of course, Lance,” he agreed affably. It seemed that civilian advisor ranked a significantly better standard of care than senior civilian of the evacuees we’re stuffing anywhere they’ll fit.
He followed the Marine through the airlock and access tube, envying the ease with which the woman stepped through the slight shift between Kosha Station’s gravity and Defiance’s gravity.
Rin himself nearly fell into the wall on the same step, even knowing where the line was.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m fine,” he told the Marine, levering himself back to standing. “Some day, I will get used to gravity shifts, but until then, I swear I’m going to overcompensate every time.”
“Take a moment, Doctor,” the Lance said. “It’s not far and we’re in no hurry. Defiance isn’t shipping out for a twentieth-cycle.”
Seventy minutes. That was probably enough to get him to his quarters and settled in before the interface drive tried to steal his stomach.
Once the ship was moving, he’d be fine, but there was very little about the process of getting aboard a ship in dock that Rin Dunst found enjoyable.
“Captain Casimir sends her regards as well and requests that you join her and her senior officers for dinner this evening once we’re underway,” the earnest young spacer told Rin once she’d delivered him and his baggage to his quarters.
“Thank you,” Rin told the woman. “I presume there is a map of the ship in the data systems?”
“Of course, Doctor. You should be activated with the same profile you had last time,” the woman assured him. “Do you need anything else?”
The vibratingly eager young woman left Rin tempted to try and find something to ask for, just to make the human puppy feel useful, but he really didn’t need anything.
“No, that’s everything, thank you. I can find my own way to dinner, unless I need to have an escort?” Rin asked.
“I don’t believe so, Doctor,” she said. “Battalion Commander Vichy should let you know shortly if you’re expected to be escorted while aboard ship.”<
br />
Rin presumed that the current lack of Marines probably meant no. Not least, he trusted Vichy to be competent enough to have told him by now if he was expected to be guarded aboard ship.
The young woman saluted—Rin knew perfectly well that Imperial Navy rules said she shouldn’t, but she did anyway—and vanished back out his door, leaving the archeologist to look around his quarters.
Unless he was severely mistaken, it was the same room they’d put him in before. He was experienced enough aboard starships in general and warships in specific to know it was a large single room, probably the most luxurious quarters they had for passengers. Defiance wouldn’t have flag officer or diplomatic quarters sitting empty.
From what Rin understood, that was an intentional lack of the design. Most ships of the Armored Dream class’s size would have been equipped to act as flagships, but the Imperium had crammed so many weapons into the hull of their new cruiser, there’d been hard choices to make.
Actual details of what those choices were were beyond Rin’s civilian understanding of the ship. His clearance would probably allow him to get that information, but it wasn’t relevant to him.
Opening his traveling case, he removed the portable computer and the privacy-shield generator. The portable computer was a solid block of electronics thirty centimeters square and three centimeters thick. Far more powerful than his wrist communicator, it was also far more secure and actively lacking in the usual wireless connections.
This particular one would refuse to turn on unless the privacy shield was activated. His quarters didn’t have a full Faraday cage, but the shield would block anything short of advanced Core Power spying tech.
Between the computer and his implant, Rin had downloaded everything in the Mesharom Archive on this region and a large amount of general information on Alava biotech and their reaction to it.
Relics of Eternity (Duchy of Terra Book 7) Page 15
