by Evan Currie
Hayden’s safety was a high priority, but it was second to keeping the Alliance from jumping deeper into SOLCOM territory, sadly.
Unfortunately he suspected he now knew that the big ship was here for another reason than just making Hayden’s citizens sleep a little better at night.
“Sal,” he spoke up, coming to a quick decision.
“Yes, Gil?”
“Deliver a message for me, would you please?”
*****
“Captain Aida?”
Sorilla paused, dropping her pack from where it rested on her shoulder, and turned to the speaker. She recognized the woman as Gil Hayden’s personal assistant. “Hey, Sal, surprised to see you here in receiving.”
“Mr. Hayden would like to speak with you, if you have time?” Sally Morell said, sounding nervous as her eyes flicked to the military-issue case Sorilla had just planted on the floor beside her.
“Of course, always have time for Gil,” Sorilla said, hefting the pack back to her shoulder.
“I can have someone take care of that for you, if you prefer.”
“No thank you,” Sorilla said with a brief shake of her head.
It was old habit, but she had no intention of letting her pack out of her sight until it was secured on the SOL. Bad things happened to soldiers who left their kit lying around where civilians could play in it, even if they weren’t carrying anything dangerous.
“Of course,” Sal said. “This way, then.”
“Lead and I’ll follow, Sal,” Sorilla smiled.
She knew the way, of course, though she’d only been to Hayden’s office a few times and only one of those had been in the last year. It was listed on the station’s records, of course, and she had full access to those, even if she had forgotten her way. Still, she let Sal lead the way to the administrative levels and into the rather impressive office that belonged to Gil Hayden.
Gil was the grandson of the original captain of the crew that originally colonized Hayden’s World, and the family namesake for the entire system. His family had been at the core of the planet’s community since before it had existed and showed no sign of letting up on that side of things.
The Hayden Constitution had laid out term limits and election rules relatively early on, as part of their agreement with the Solari Organization that had partially funded the colony, but as on Earth, sometimes a name alone was enough to get you elected. Thankfully, so far at least, the Hayden family had proven to be competent, if not spectacular, leaders since they had, often as not, been at the helm of Hayden society.
“Captain!” Gil greeted her as she entered the outer office, coming through the door with his hand reaching out toward her. He paused as he saw the pack on her shoulder and his hand dropped as he sighed. “Damn it. I thought you’d put in your papers.”
“I did,” she said, shrugging, “but duty is a harsh taskmaster.”
“There’s duty, Captain, and then there is plain abuse of power,” Gil said darkly.
He’d not been on Hayden at the time of the attack, having been on Earth as part of his job securing a regular trade route for the small colony when it went dark, so Gil didn’t know Sorilla as she’d been when she arrived on-world during the invasion. He had made a point of getting to know her since, and had swung more than a little of his weight around to get her personnel jacket pulled once he realized how much her opinion held sway with the colonists.
Most of it had been blacked out, of course, but he was experienced enough with government-speak to read between the lines. Her superiors had advocated for vacation time for her almost a dozen times during the war, but experienced people had been at such a premium that the only time she had time to speak of had been when they’d upgraded her implant suite, and even then her convalescence had been cut short when a mission popped up.
Her psych evaluation had similarly been blacked out, aside from the SOLCOM psychiatrist highly suggesting time off again.
It created a pattern in the documents that fit the woman he’d first met when he hitched a ride on a Cheyenne-class starship to return home on the heels of the alien retreat. She’d been…a powerful presence then, the sort of larger-than-life hero you only read about in history books. Since then, he’d watched her grow smaller and quieter every time he met her.
When she asked for a land grant, he would have expedited it anywhere she wanted short of taking land from someone else. Asking for it on the subcontinent had just made it easier for him to expand her request considerably as part of the gratitude of the colony she had saved. Over the last few months, he’d visited often, wanting to get to know the legend.
She’d been slowly getting better, in his estimation, though he had been concerned about her propensity for solitude, as were many of her friends.
Gil was not happy to see her shipping out with another SOLCOM warship.
The colonists slept better with her on-world, as silly as that seemed, but more than that, he’d come to count her as a friend and it seemed that SOLCOM was determined to break his friend.
“I could turn them down,” she said simply, as though she’d read his mind.
Gil shook his head. “Then why don’t you?”
Sorilla considered that question for a moment. It was a question she didn’t know the answer to, honestly. Sure, Mattan had caught her interest. The Diaspora Colonies were living history, now that she knew that some of them had survived, and she had to admit to burning curiosity as to how they’d turned out. Honestly, though, if she were brutally honest, Sorilla suspected that she was answering the call out of pure habit more than any other thing.
“It’s important,” she finally offered, the words sounding lame even to her, for all that they were true.
“It will always be important, Captain,” Gil said softly. “It’s time for others to shoulder that burden.”
“Last mission, Gil,” she said. “My papers are still in. When I come back from this one, I’m done.”
Gil nodded. “I suppose that’s the best I’ll get, isn’t it? Make sure you come back, will you? A lot of people sleep better at night here, knowing you’re out there in the jungle.”
She laughed at him. “I’m sure they’ll make do without me, Gil.”
“Of course they will,” he agreed. “You know our citizens, they’re tough. That doesn’t mean they don’t have their symbols to believe in, though. I know you won’t believe me, and that’s fine, but people take comfort where they will.”
“Yeah, well,” Sorilla shrugged, “I’ll do my best to get back. Have work to finish anyway.”
“You do at that,” he agreed, glad to shift the topic. “I’ve been monitoring the plans you filed. Ambitious stuff.”
Very ambitious, from what he could tell, especially for a woman who really just lived alone. When he’d authorized the large grant in the area she’d requested, he hadn’t thought much of it. He’d expected her to clear jungle and start sowing pharmaceutical plants, Hayden’s single highest profit export. He had not expected her to start prepping an area for what was effectively a small city by every measure he might make, and would have laughed at the suggestion if he hadn’t seen the mobile fabrication swarm she’d brought in.
Gil himself couldn’t call on that much fabrication capacity. The entire colony might match what she had, though he personally doubted it. Her MOFAs were newer than the ones issued to the colony, and no one had ever really seen the need to upgrade what was working fine for their limited population. The fact that she’d been able to afford as many last-generation MOFAs as she had, had shocked him until he put the details all together and realized that she’d managed to get them for scrap when the Ares Mining Conglomerate shut down and didn’t want to spend the money shipping its tools home.
The war had left a lot of gear lying around unused, for that very reason. On Hayden it tended to be military equipment. Old battle tanks, light automated combat drones, damaged and undamaged dropships, and lord the sheer number of rifles and even alien combat tech they
were still pulling out of the jungles was enough to turn his hair grey if he hadn’t already lost all color there years earlier.
Different systems had different situations, though, and the Ares facility had been a rare metals facility from long before the war. Built to supply SOLCOM and SOLCORP with the materials needed to quantum computing and VASIMR drive consumables, it had limped along after deep space deposits of the same materials had been located. When the Ross caused so much damage, there was no way the Ares Corp was going to pay to repair a tenth of the needed facilities. So they just pulled out, abandoning most everything right in place. Materials that would be valuable on Earth or Hayden, was scrap not worth shipping on Ares.
Sorilla shrugged. “I have the capacity, so I figured why bother just making a house for me.”
“Most people would settle for a sizeable plantation with guest homes, not a small city,” he said chidingly, “especially since there’s no one to live there.”
“They’ll last,” she said confidently. “Stone and carbon construction don’t wear down on human timescales. Besides, I think they’ll see use sooner than you expect.”
Gil shrugged. “Well, they’re your machines. So as long as you’re fine maintaining them, you can build whatever you want.”
“While I’m here,” Sorilla told him, as though thinking of something just then, “my father may be arriving while I’m away. I’d appreciate it if you could arrange to have him seen around, transported out to my land if he wants it, a room here if he prefers. On my account?”
“Of course,” Gil said simply. “I’ll make sure of it. I didn’t know he was visiting.”
“A chance at a new frontier, and a wild one at that?” She scoffed. “You couldn’t have kept him away. He was always going to come out sometime. I think he only stayed on Earth as long as he did because he was raising me after Mom died.”
She looked out the large vista beyond Gil’s office to the planet below.
“I wonder what it would have been like if he’d just packed us up and hopped a colony ship.”
“As much as I believe you’d have been an asset to any world, ours preferably,” Gil smiled, “I can’t say as I’m saddened that he did things the way he did.”
“It has worked out, I suppose,” she said thoughtfully before visibly shaking herself free of the thoughts. “Well, I should go.”
“Thank you for coming, Captain,” Gil said, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. “And God speed on your mission.”
“Thank you, Governor Hayden,” Sorilla returned with a grin as she hefted her pack to her shoulder again and walked back to the central lift.
Gil watched her go until she had been out of sight for a long moment, then forcibly pulled his thoughts back to the present and the work at hand.
“Sal,” he said, “make a note to let me know if Captain Aida’s father arrives. I’m afraid you’ll have to look up his name, but I assume the family name is Aida.”
“I’ll see to it, sir.”
“Thank you.”
*****
USV SOL
The United Solar Vessel, SOL, was the namesake of the latest class of SOLCOM warship. Over fifteen hundred meters long, its design was mostly an incremental improvement over the previous Terra-class, with more efficient singularity controls supported by a new control system known colloquially as the “Parker interface” that allowed for incredibly fine-tuned control applications within the ship and without.
Bigger, stronger, faster, and many, many times deadlier, the SOL was the new flagship of the rapidly growing SOLCOM fleet.
For Admiral Ruger, it was just one more deck to walk, however, in a line of many decks before.
He found the objective of this particular stroll of the decks in short order. The general was standing over one of the expansive observation decks on the admiralty spire, looking out to where Hayden’s World floated in the black.
“You called it, General,” Ruger said as he approached. “My yeoman just informed me that Major Aida hitched a ride on the supply shuttle.”
Mattan nodded, unsurprised, though he had expected her to take a little more time.
“You ever wonder if we’re the villains in our story, Ruger?” he asked softly, not turning around.
“You’re getting philosophical in your old age,” Ruger answered, shaking his head. “I do what I have to do, no more, no less.”
“I’ve read her files,” Mattan said. “She shouldn’t have been on half the missions she saw, let alone leading them.”
“You need to get your head in the game,” Ruger admonished him. “The major has succeeded brilliantly, every time. She’s done the impossible for us.”
“And, in turn, we expect her to do it again,” Mattan snorted derisively. “That’s an untenable course of action, and you know it. Eventually, we’ll ask too much. Maybe we already have.”
“I’ve worked with her more than you have through the war,” Ruger reminded the general. “I’ve seen her turn disaster into a fighting chance, then take that chance and shove right up the enemies’—”
Mattan chuckled, cutting him off. “She always was good at that. I could tell you stories…”
“Another time. Just trust her. She’ll be fine,” Ruger said.
“She’s tired. Her head’s not in it anymore,” Mattan said. “I saw that the moment she spoke. She wanted out. I’m uncomfortable with this, we shouldn’t have pulled her back.”
“If I have to send a thousand, ten thousand, a million good men and women into the meat grinder to keep Sol free, then that’s exactly what I’ll do,” Ruger said coldly. “And it’s what you’ll do too, and you know it.”
“I do,” Mattan sighed. “I’m just getting old enough that my regrets are starting to rally enough forces to outnumber my patriotism.”
“For a Special Forces man, General, you think way too much,” Ruger laughed. “At any rate, if you want to meet the lady, she’ll be landing in twenty.”
Mattan nodded. “Thank you, Admiral.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ruger said. “And, General? Regrets aren’t worth the consequences of not acting.”
“On that, Admiral, we are in accord. Regrets are for peacetime,” Mattan said, his tone hardening.
*****
“Pressure’s equalized,” the pilot’s voice drifted back as Sorilla released her restraints and rose up from the uncomfortable jump seat she’d been afforded when she showed up just before the shuttle left the Hayden Station. “Lock seals will open in ten seconds.”
Sorilla worked her jaw to keep her ears from popping when the seals did. The pressure being equalized really just meant that they were within military requirements to open the seals, and the odds were good that the shuttle was still a little out of sync with the ship. She was proven right when, a moment later, a pop and hiss filled the cabin and she felt the air bear down on her eardrums uncomfortably.
She swallowed, then pinched her nose and forced a little more internal pressure to her ears, then sighed as she smelt the carbon filtration of the big ship fill her nose.
I almost missed that. Almost.
It wasn’t pleasant—a burning sensation that invaded her entire body through her nose and lungs—but it was a memory of home too, in its way. She drew in a few deep breaths until the burning sensation faded, then Sorilla shouldered her pack and navigated her way through the stock of fresh food and other supplies the shuttle had brought over from Hayden until she stepped onto the ramp and walked down and out of the belly of the big military shuttle.
“Major, welcome aboard the SOL.”
Sorilla was only mildly surprised that the general had chosen to meet her and not surprised at all that he’d found out she was coming, though she hadn’t announced herself officially.
“Sir.” She nodded. “Pleasure to be here.”
He scoffed at that, but refrained from commenting. “We have a billet for you set up in officers’ country near the admiralty spire. I’m told it’s one of the n
icer ones.”
She laughed. “I’ve been sleeping in an emergency shelter for the last few months, sir. I’m sure I’ll get by, no worries.”
“I expect you’ll be onboard a fair amount this run,” he told her, “so it may as well be decent accommodations, I suppose.”
She shrugged. “What is my assignment, specifically, if you don’t mind my asking, General?”
“Expected it,” Mattan answered. “Hand off your pack and walk with me. Corporal!”
A Marine who’d been standing nearby stiffened. “Sir?”
“See to the major’s pack, would you?” The general gestured. “Her berth is in the computer.”
“Yes, sir, ma’am,” the corporal said, taking the pack off Sorilla’s hands. “It’ll be waiting for you in your room, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Corporal,” Sorilla said, already turning to follow the general.
“No problem, ma’am.”
*****
“Here’s what we know,” Mattan said, shooting a file to Sorilla’s implants. “You can review the details at your leisure, but the quick and dirty is that the Alliance is just as interested in keeping this from blowing up in anyone’s faces as we are. They probably would have kept it to themselves as an internal matter, but they’re aware that we’ve got at least some penetration of their public media now and weren’t sure they could keep it quiet for long.”
Sorilla nodded, flipping through the file on her corneal implants. “Makes sense. Of course, bringing us in gives them better access to us as well, you realize?”
Mattan snorted. “Teach your grandpa to suck eggs, Sister. That’s one reason we want you in on this.”
“Give them a known factor rather than someone new who they may actually end up facing in the field later,” Sorilla agreed. “Right. Any other reasons?”
“Well, your specialty, of course. We are dealing with rather noted terrorist types. You spent a fair amount of time in the field against them,” he told her.
“Against Muslim extremists, yes,” she said. “Never dealt with Christian terrorists, at least not white supremacist types. Tangled a bit with Christian extremists in central Africa, but that’s a different breed. They operate more like Muslim terrorists; it’s a culture thing. I’ll need full briefs on everyone who shipped out with that colony ship, sir.”
