by Ryk Brown
Ito leaned forward, his own menacing look adorning his face. “You spoke of leaders believing the wrongs they committed were for the good of all. You spoke of the ends justifying the means. Perhaps you were right, Minister. Perhaps I—should I choose to become a leader—should do whatever is necessary to see that old men such as yourself, men who refuse to face the inevitable changes that progress will always bring, are removed from power and not allowed to destroy the futures of our children for the sake of the memories of their own glorious pasts.”
Despite his utter disdain for his guest, Minister Sebaron nodded respectfully. “I sense that you and I have reached an impasse, Mister Yokimah. As men of honor, and as men who both care deeply about Rakuen, we shall both do what we believe to be best for our world.” Minister Sebaron stood. “I believe you know the way out, Mister Yokimah. Good day.” With that, the minister cast one last insult to his guest and turned to walk away, without bowing.
Ito sighed as he stood. He had hoped to convince the old statesman to see the error of his ways, but his failure came as no surprise. The minister had opposed turning the Gunyoki into a competition, despite the dramatic increase in the number of combat-ready fighters that had resulted. Change was not something the elders of Rakuen took too lightly. Ito, himself, had been of their ilk only a few short weeks ago, and it had nearly gotten him killed and his world destroyed. Captain Scott had given him a second chance, and he would not make that mistake again. Even if it meant going up against all the elders of Rakuen.
* * *
After spending nearly the entire day sitting in the corner of the cell, Michael rose and came over to stand before Birk and Cuddy. “May I?” he asked.
Birk and Cuddy both slid apart, making room for Michael.
“How’s he doing?” Cuddy asked.
“Jonas will be fine,” Michael replied as he sat down between them. “He is strong. All Corinari are. Much stronger than I.”
“You’re not Corinari, are you,” Cuddy surmised.
“I am not. I wish I could have been, but they were disbanded before I returned from the Sol sector. I like to think that I am of the same ilk, but I have not been through the same training, nor shared the bonds that make them unique among all of humanity’s warriors.” Michael gazed across the cell, as if looking at something far beyond the walls that imprisoned them. “I only hope that I have earned the respect of those Corinari with whom I have fought.”
After a moment, Michael turned his attention back to the present. “The two of you remind me much of myself when I was your age. I, too, was left with a choice to serve or to suffer incarceration for what might remain of my young life.” He looked at Cuddy. “There is no shame in choosing to survive.” He then looked at Birk. “For one cannot know what good one might do, if given an opportunity.” He looked forward again. “Sometimes, surviving is the only way we can fight. The time may come when you, too, are given an opportunity to make a difference. But if you’re not alive to seize that opportunity, you might miss the only chance you ever had to truly make a difference.”
“How can anyone know if such an opportunity will come?” Cuddy wondered.
“We cannot know,” Michael admitted. “We can only survive and hope that such an opportunity comes to us, to give our lives meaning. I got my opportunity, and I took it. For that, I have no regrets, despite the fact that doing so led me here, to this day, and to the bleak future before me.”
“Then, you’re planning to refuse to serve them,” Cuddy realized.
“I have no choice.”
“You’re not Corinari,” Birk reminded him. “You said so yourself. You won’t be breaking any oaths if you agree to serve the Dusahn.”
“What about all that talk about opportunities and staying alive to make a difference?” Cuddy argued.
“The Dusahn would never trust me to serve them,” Michael pointed out. “As a soldier or a slave, they will make my life a living hell.” Michael sighed. “I will stand by the Corinari and refuse to serve the Dusahn. But the two of you need not condemn yourselves to slavery. Neither of you has any record of military service, and you both were bullied into joining our ranks. If questioned, using this truth-device of theirs, you will likely pass, since the truth is that neither of you sought to join the resistance.”
“Maybe not,” Birk agreed, “but we could have refused to join.”
“You are but young men,” Michael told him. “Still naive and lacking in conviction. Your involvement with the Corinari resistance was not by choice.”
“But…”
Michael looked Birk in the eyes. “Can you honestly tell me that had you not feared for your life that day, you would have chosen to join our ranks?”
“I…”
“Do not lie to me,” Michael warned.
“No, I probably wouldn’t have,” Birk agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have joined later.”
“And you?” Michael asked, turning to look at Cuddy.
“I didn’t want to try to sell the weapons, to begin with,” Cuddy admitted. “He talked me into it.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you,” Birk moaned.
“Uh, jail cell?” Cuddy reminded his friend.
“So you see, there is no need for you to face the same fate as the rest of us,” Michael stated. “Your true purpose is still out there somewhere, waiting for you in the future. You both must live to find it, and fulfill whatever fate has planned for you.”
Birk and Cuddy both thought for a moment.
“But how do we know that our true purpose isn’t waiting for us as slaves with the rest of you?” Cuddy asked.
Michael smiled for the first time since their capture. “You don’t. That uncertainty is what makes life interesting.”
“For all you know, another opportunity could be waiting for you as a slave of the Dusahn,” Birk told him.
Again Michael smiled. “One can only hope.”
The three of them sat in silence for several minutes.
“What do you think they will do with all of you?” Cuddy finally asked.
“Probably send us to some mining camp and force us to work in conditions that will lead to our early demise,” Michael replied.
“What will they do with us?” Birk wondered, somewhat selfishly.
“You will likely be brainwashed into believing in those you serve. Then you will be given training that suits your aptitudes and assigned somewhere within the ranks of the Dusahn Empire. If you are lucky, you will climb in rank and possibly even carve out a nice little life for yourselves. At worst, you will become sacrificial pawns in some meaningless battle to further the empire.”
“Some choice,” Birk grumbled.
“We all die eventually,” Michael told him. “Few of us get to choose what we die for. If you refuse service now, you will die for nothing.”
“If we agree to serve, we might still die for nothing,” Cuddy pointed out.
“True, but you may not. And that one chance of someday making a difference…that, too, is an honorable way to live. Try to remember that. For yourselves and for the people of Corinair.”
* * *
Nathan sat silently as Vladimir put a plate of…something…on the table in front of him. “Uh…” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.
“What is wrong?”
“I’m afraid.”
Vladimir squinted, confused. “Afraid of what?”
“What is what I’m trying to figure out.” Nathan turned the plate of food around one hundred and eighty degrees, hoping that the other side might offer a hint of what it was. “What is this?”
“I call it Pasta ala Vladimir.”
“Okay, so it has a name,” Nathan replied, still examining the pile of food in front of him
. “And apparently, it has pasta in it…somewhere.”
“Actually, the pasta turns to mush at some point and sort of mixes in with the sauce.”
“What are these brown things? Some kind of meat?” Nathan wondered.
“Oksa meat.”
“I never heard of it.”
“It is a type of fish on Rakuen. It is very large and tastes sort of like beef.”
“It doesn’t smell like beef, that’s for sure,” Nathan replied. “Why is it all mushy?” he asked, scooping up a spoonful of the pasty, lumpy goop.
“I came up with this recipe on accident,” Vladimir explained. “I was attempting to make stroganoff, but then Cameron decided to hold one of her famous, poorly-timed, battle drills. I figured the drill would be over quickly, as usual, so instead of turning the stove off, I simply turned it down to a simmer. The drill went longer than expected, and by the time I got back, the pasta was like mush. I was so hungry by then that I just stirred in some meat and ate it. And it was good. Not as good as this, though. This took several more attempts to perfect. Now, it is creamy, meaty goodness.”
Nathan continued to stare at the creamy goop on the plate before him, picking at it with his spoon, hesitant to dig in. He watched as Vladimir attacked his plate of food without restraint, shoveling the goop into his mouth. Finally, Nathan took a deep breath and said, “I guess if I can face the Dusahn, I can face Pasta ala Vladimir.” He took a spoonful and put it into his mouth, swallowing it without chewing. “Huh,” he said, a surprised look on his face. He scooped up another spoonful and ate it. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” After a third spoonful, he added, “This isn’t half bad. Weird but tasty.”
“I told you.”
The accent lighting in the captain’s mess suddenly turned red, and an alarm klaxon sounded in the corridor.
“General Quarters, general quarters. All hands report to stations…”
“Unbelievable,” Vladimir exclaimed, slamming his spoon down on the table. “If this is another one of her drills…”
“…This is not a drill…”
Both Nathan’s and Vladimir’s eyes widened.
“I guess not,” Nathan said as he and Vladimir rose from their seats and headed for the exit. “Captain, XO,” Cameron’s voice called over Nathan’s comm-set.
“Sit rep?” Nathan replied, tapping his com-set.
“Jump comm-drone from Rakuen. They are under attack by Dusahn gunships,” Cameron explained over his comm-set as he moved quickly down the corridor and entered the outer entrance to the Aurora’s bridge. “I’ve ordered all Strikers to remain to cover the fleet…” she continued as Nathan entered the bridge.
“Captain on the bridge!” the guard announced as Nathan passed by him and headed to the center of the bridge.
“…We’re changing course for Rakuen now,” Cameron continued, rising from the command chair, and stepping to starboard, to make room for Nathan.
“First jump plotted and ready, sir,” the Aurora’s navigator reported.
“I’m headed for combat,” Cameron stated as she turned toward the starboard exit.
“Weapons are coming online now,” Jessica reported, having just entered the bridge, and stepping in to replace the junior officer, at the tactical station directly behind Nathan’s command chair.
“Helm, get us to Rakuen,” Nathan ordered.
“Best speed to Rakuen, aye,” Lieutenant Dinev confirmed as she completed the Aurora’s change in course and speed.
“Jumping in three…” the navigator began.
“All stations report general quarters,” the communications officer announced.
“…Two…”
“Very well,” Nathan replied.
“…One…”
“All weapons are charged and ready,” Jessica reported.
“…jumping…”
“Shields?” Nathan asked as the subdued jump flash filled the bridge.
“All shields at maximum,” Jessica assured him.
“First jump complete,” the navigator reported.
“Turning to one four seven, two down,” Lieutenant Dinev announced as she altered course for the next jump.
“How much juice are we going to have left over, Mister Bickle?”
“Fifty percent in each, sir,” the navigator replied. “More than enough.”
“Good to hear.”
“On course and speed for second jump,” the helmsman reported.
“Very well, Lieutenant.”
“Jumping in three seconds…”
“XO is in combat,” the communications officer reported.
“…two…”
“Tactical, weapons free,” Nathan ordered.
“…one…”
“…weapons free, aye,” Jessica acknowledged.
“…jumping.”
The subdued blue-white jump flash again washed over the Aurora’s bridge as she jumped into the Rogen system, near Rakuen.
“Jump complete,” Ensign Bickle reported.
“Multiple targets,” Lieutenant Commander Kono reported from the sensor station. “Six Dusahn gunships and two frigates.”
“Targeting the frigates with jump missiles,” Jessica reported. “Two each…launching.”
“Jump flashes,” the lieutenant commander added. “Four Dusahn octo-fighters directly astern. Locking onto our aft shields.”
“Jump missiles away,” Jessica reported. “Combat is dealing with the octo-fighters.”
“All gunships and frigates just jumped,” the sensor officer reported.
“Find them,” Nathan ordered. “Comms, get a report from Rakuen Defense Command. I need to know what they’re targeting, if anything.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Tactical, launch all fighters,” Nathan continued. “Helm, let’s not stay in any one place for too long, I don’t want to get a Dusahn jump missile up our ass.”
“Eight Super Eagles are away,” Jessica reported. “Two Raptors are clearing the port deck now.”
“Helm, hard to starboard. Bring us to a jump line low across Rakuen,” Nathan ordered. “Mister Bickle, ready a jump to the far side of Rakuen.”
“Hard to starboard, ten down to skim low orbit,” Lieutenant Dinev confirmed as she steered the ship to the right and slightly down, relative to the system ecliptic.
“Captain?” Jessica questioned, wondering why Nathan was moving the ship to the other side of the planet.
“Jump ready,” the navigator reported.
“I have Rakuen Defense Command, Captain,” the comms officer announced. “They report four gunships attacking the Ranni plant from orbit.”
“On the far side of Rakuen,” Jessica realized.
“I had a hunch,” Nathan told her.
“The plant has lost shields and is taking damage.”
“Jump us to the far side, Mister Bickle,” Nathan ordered. “Tactical, jump missiles for the gunships, if you please.”
“RDC also reports twenty Gunyoki have been dispatched from the race platform,” the comms officer continued. “ETA, two minutes.”
“I’ve got the Gunyoki,” the sensor officer reported.
“Jumping,” the navigator reported as the jump flash washed over the bridge again.
“There will be nothing left of that plant in two minutes,” Nathan said under his breath.
“Jump complete,” Mister Bickle reported.
“Locking jump missiles on targets,” Jessica reported.
“Double-check all targets,” Nathan advised, “we don’t want to take out any Gunyoki by mistake.”
“Not a chance,” Jessica assured him. “Launching jump missiles.”
“Helm, turn us into those gunships and
accelerate to max intercept speed. Take up station above the Ranni plant,” Nathan ordered.
“Turning in and accelerating, aye,” Lieutenant Dinev acknowledged.
“Missiles away,” Jessica reported from the tactical station.
“Where the hell are those frigates?” Nathan demanded as the planet slid into view from the lower right of the main view screen that wrapped around the forward half of the bridge.
“Nothing in close, Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Kono replied from the sensor station. “I’m expanding my search perimeter.”
Four jump flashes appeared in the distance directly ahead of them, one of which immediately changed from blue-white to reddish-orange. “Ours or theirs?” Nathan asked.
“Both,” Jessica replied. “One kill, the other three jumped away just as our missiles jumped in.”
“Caught one sleeping,” Nathan commented.
“Eight more Super Eagles are away,” Jessica added. “Two more Raptors are launching now, starboard side.”
“Captain!” Lieutenant Commander Kono reported with alarm. “I’ve got one of the frigates! Attacking the race platform!”
“Helm, get us to the race platform, best speed,” Nathan ordered.
“Changing course for the race platform,” Lieutenant Dinev acknowledged from the helm.
“Plotting jump,” Mister Bickle added.
“Tactical, lock a pair of jump missiles on that frigate and launch. She needs something to think about other than that race platform,” Nathan continued.
“You got it,” Jessica replied.
“Jump plotted and ready.”
“Comms, tell RDC to keep all Gunyoki headed toward low orbit above the Ranni plant. We’ll deal with the frigates. And if they’ve got more Gunyokis available at the platform, tell them to launch now while they still can.”
“Coming onto new intercept course now,” Lieutenant Dinev announced.
“Missiles away,” Jessica reported.
