by M. D. Cooper
“I was thinking about New Canaan,” Silva replied. “I heard you discussing it with Chase on the way back from Hudson.”
“The ISF’s homeworld?” Rika’s brows rose. “You know that they don’t let just anyone go there.”
Silva nodded. “Yeah, I got that impression. But I heard rumblings that General Julia was trying to get Admiral Richards to open it up as a haven for Marauder families.”
“Scuttlebutt, the fastest moving thing in the universe,” Rika muttered as she shook her head. “It’s true that Julia has asked, but it’s far from a done deal. Tanis is worried about introducing people with divided loyalties into her society. From what I’ve been able to gather, their population is very, very small.”
“For such an open-minded person, I wouldn’t have expected Tanis to be so nationalistic.”
Niki joined in.
Silva pursed her lips, but nodded. “I get that. Tanis has a lot of irons in the fire—”
“Silva,” Rika interrupted, smiling as she placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’ll ask. It can’t hurt to ask. And when you’re done training the mechs—essential integration only, mind you—you should go to New Canaan. Don’t come with them to Nietzschea. I bet the ISF could use an old sourpuss like you to whip their recruits into line.”
“Thank you, Rika. I think that could work. I have to feel like I’m doing my part, not sitting out of the most important fight we’ll ever see.”
Rika pulled Silva in close, and the two women embraced. When they separated, Rika looked down at the general’s image, hovering over the casket.
“I understand completely.”
ORDERS
STELLAR DATE: 09.18.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Pyran Sky Station
REGION: Pyra, Albany System, Thebes, Septhian Alliance
Rika stood in the observation lounge of the newly minted Pyran Sky Station, staring out at the fleet of ships moving into a wide ‘flying cross’ formation nearby.
She didn’t know what was more surreal: the fact that the twelve ships in the formation were all under her command, or that the station she stood on would someday be the anchor point for a space elevator, and later, a planetary ring.
It turned out that Tanis had decided to do more than just help Pyra rebuild—she was re-establishing it as the capital of the Theban Alliance. ISF ships had jumped into the Praesepe Cluster’s inner empire, deep within the FTL exclusion zone, and had set up a trade route, funneling the plentiful resources from within the cluster out to shipyards that would build a new fleet to stand against, and ultimately attack, the Nietzscheans.
A fleet for the Thebans, and excess ships, which Thebes could sell to Septhia.
Rika hadn’t learned all the details, but it seemed that Tanis was displeased with the Septhian Prime Minister, and had wrenched Thebes from him. She’d also sent ships to the Politica to ensure that the nations that had existed there before Stavros swept through were re-established.
Rika knew a few of the locals who would be ecstatic to see the Kendo Empire re-emerge from the Politica’s ashes.
But a planetary ring…. That would be something to see. Rika had only heard stories of such things, or seen them in the vids. Apparently it was Finaeus’s idea. He said the best way to control and save Pyra’s failing climate was with a ring, and with so much of the system devastated by the two battles with the Nietzscheans, it would make new homes for the billions of refugees while their world was rebuilt.
What amazed Rika further was that Finaeus claimed the ring could be constructed in just a few short years. Already the strand was being run down from Pyran Sky Station, and another from Howe’s Glory on the far side of the planet. Once the stations were anchored and functioning as terminuses for space elevators, FGT ships would arrive to erect the hollow tubes that would form the ring’s support.
FGT ships…. Mind. Blown.
Her understanding of the process they’d use was limited, but from what Rika had gathered, the tubes themselves weren’t strong enough to support the ring. However, charged particles would be accelerated through the tubes, somehow making them rigid and able to support the load of the terraformed surface.
Finaeus had described this as a ‘g-ring’, one where the ring sat close enough to the planet that it would not use centripetal force, but rather obtain its gravity from that of the planet itself.
Which meant that the ‘terraformed’ surface of the ring would face up toward the stars, rather than down toward the planet, unlike the ancient rings in Sol and other places that she’d learned about.
Rika fervently hoped that she would make it back to Pyra to see it someday.
Beyond the engine glow from her small fleet, lights glinted around the L1 point between Pyra and its largest moon. That was where a new shipyard was being built, one that would produce the new Theban fleet—much of it from the hulls of Nietzschean ships—a project that would guarantee the security of the Theban people against new invaders.
Niki asked as Rika gazed out through the plas.
Rika asked suspiciously.
Niki laughed.
Niki snorted.
Rika laughed aloud at the image and shook her head at her AI.
Rika asked as she squared her shoulders.
Niki asked with a resigned sigh.
Rika turned and began to walk across the observation deck to a new vantage point, when Tanis entered the room, striding toward her as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
“Rika, you’re getting a pass on the meeting today.”
“I am?” she stopped short as Tanis’s long steps brought the admiral to her.
“Yes. After the battle, I sent scout ships to the locations that General Mill had noted as ideal first-strike targets,” Tanis explained without further preamble. “We jumped the ships to the edges of those systems, where they waited silently to see what the Nietzscheans would do next.”
Cold dread swept over Rika. “Are the Niets massing another fleet? Are they coming back?”
Tanis snorted. “Well, yes, and probably not. Most of the ships that escaped the battle here at Pyra have retreated to the Sepe System.
“Sepe? That’s, what…only twenty light years from here? But it’s not in the Nietzschean Empire, is it?” Rika asked.
“Not officially, no, but they’re little more than a vassal state. The Niets are regrouping there, but our analysts don’t think it’s to strike back. Chatter they’ve decrypted on insystem comm relays leads us to believe that the Nietzscheans are going to do a scorched earth retreat back into their empire—create a humanitarian crisis to slow us down.”
“Shit,” Rika whispered. “Those bastards are doing it all over again!”
Tanis placed a hand on Rika’s shoulder. “Not this time. They only have about three hundred ships in the system, and half of those are in rough shape. They’re using the local’s supplies to refit them, a
nd then they’re going to start their death march.”
“So when do we leave?” Rika asked.
A grim smile settled on Tanis’s lips. “Not we, Rika, you.”
“Me?”
“Well, you and your battalion. We’ve already outfitted your original five ships with our stasis shields, and your two destroyers have our stealth tech. It won’t work as well as it does on our ships—the physical characteristics of the Nietzschean ships work against the systems—but it will be a definite advantage.”
Rika swallowed. “I know you think highly of me, Tanis, but five ships against three hundred? Why can’t you send more?”
“Because we just launched offensives in the Trisilieds, and Orion is renewing their attacks along the Spinward Front, while the Airthans have attacked a dozen systems near the Vela cluster. And that’s just what’s happened in the last day. I’m leaving a token force here in Pyra to defend it and to get the other ships in your fleet ready.”
Rika realized that this might be her last conversation with Tanis. The Field Marshal could be going anywhere next. By the time Rika finished this mission, the woman could be on the far side of known space.
But Tanis was no fool. Rika was certain of that. This would be her last chance to get any advice from the admiral, as well as the woman.
“OK,” Rika locked her eyes on Tanis’s. “You wouldn’t send us to die. So how will my five ships destroy three hundred, and save a star system?”
Tanis barked a laugh and shook her head. “I knew I liked you, Rika. Here’s what I’d do…”
SEPE
STELLAR DATE: 09.18.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Fury Lance
REGION: Pyra, Albany System, Thebes, Septhian Alliance
Rika stood on the bridge of the Fury Lance, watching a dozen status displays as the jump gate grew ever larger in the forward view.
Many of the displays in front of Rika monitored regular ship’s functions: engines, a-grav systems, environmental, the upgraded shields. But those were not the ones that had Rika’s eye. She was looking at the stress readouts on the docking clamps, where the other four ships in her little fleet clung to the Fury Lance’s hull.
Tanis had not been able to spare more than one gate tug for the trip—especially since that ship would need to return to Albany through the dark layer, which would be a three-week trip that would take it out of service during that time. This meant that Rika’s fleet had to travel through the jump gate as a single object.
Heather sat at the Fury Lance’s helm console, easing the group of ships toward the massive jump gate, which was still orbiting Pyra, thanks to the continued presence of the I2.
Though Rika’s Nietzschean dreadnought was tiny in comparison to an I-Class vessel, it was much larger than most other ISF ships and would not fit through the standard jump gates. Especially with its fleet attached to the hull.
The Republic IV and the Undaunted were stationed above and below the dreadnought, while the Asora and Capital were on either side. Bulky as that made them, it was humbling to think that they could still fit inside one of the I2’s habitation cylinders.
In addition to the concern over the stress on the docking clamps, worry about the use of something as foreign as a jump gate hung in Rika’s mind. There, it mingled with her concern of the four ships anchored to the Fury Lance’s hull.
And that concern was compounded by the thoughts of leaving Silva and Barne back in the Albany System, waiting for the remainder of the mechs from the Politica to arrive.
At least Julia already took Tim back. With Penny as the senior captain, they’ll fare much better. Not to mention knowing that Amy is safe at New Canaan.
Ahead, the jump gate continued to grow larger, and Rika couldn’t help but ask Niki,
Niki let out a soft cackle, and Rika groaned aloud.
“Colonel?” Heather asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“Nothing, Captain Heather, Niki just thinks she’s a comedian.”
“Well tell her to shut up, this is stressing me the fuck out.”
Rika asked.
“Fury Lance, Tug 78A10 here. We are in the pocket, gate activation sequence initiated, antimatter emitters online.” The tug operator’s voice came across the audible comms, filled with calm surety. She seemed totally unconcerned about what was to happen next, and Rika reminded herself that there was no reason to assume the tug pilot was suicidal. This was just another jump for her.
“Hear you loud and clear, Tug 78A10,” Heather replied. “Staying on vector, delta-v holding steady.”
As Heather spoke, the jump gate’s ring came to life, a strange ball forming in its center. Like a blue-black cloud comprised of utter nothingness that blotted out the stars beyond.
Rika asked Niki.
Rika prompted.
Rika nodded silently as the ball of not-space grew larger. She reminded herself that this was a perfectly normal way to travel in many regions, and that there was no need to be terrified about the thought of slipping around the edge of a simulated black hole.
Seriously, Rika, what are you afraid of? A little, ol’ black hole? Pish.
She schooled her expression, doing her best to exude calm confidence while looking around the bridge. Leslie’s eyes were closed, as were Chief Garth’s, however, Chase and Chief Ona were both staring at the display in open-mouthed wonder.
Lieutenant Colonel Alice was sitting at an auxiliary console, doing her best to appear nonchalant—though Rika could see that her knuckles were white as she gripped the armrest.
Colonel Borden, the liaison from the ISF, leant against the bridge’s rear bulkhead, covering his mouth as he yawned.
“Deploying mirror,” the tug operator announced. Rika watched as a shimmering field expanded in front of the tug, and then the mirror touched the ball of not-space, and everything around them vanished.
The longest two seconds of Rika’s life crept by, and then the starscape snapped back into place on the main holodisplay. For a moment, Rika thought they hadn’t gone anywhere, but then she noted a few missing stars that they’d jumped past, and knew they’d at least gone somewhere.
“Confirm coordinates,” the tug pilot said. “I read Sepe System, forty-two point nine eight AU from the star, coreward side, seven point three degrees off galactic west, three degrees north of stellar plane.”
The tug operator’s coordinates were conveyed in imprecise terms—necessary to easily verbalize them—but they matched what Rika saw on the nav system. Triangulation over the next five minutes would give them a more precise location.
“We match up, Tug 78A10,” Heather replied. “Thanks for the lift.”
“Anytime, Rika’s Fury,” the tug operator replied.
> “Say again?” Heather said. “I like that name.”
“Just made it up,” the woman replied. “I have to log the ship I pulled, but you’re five ships—my first little fleet I’ve jumped all at once, by the way. Anyway, I designated you ‘Rika’s Fury’.”
Leslie caught Rika’s eye and her black lips pulled back to reveal a white grin. “Oh, we’re keeping that. The fleet is absolutely ‘Rika’s Fury’ from now on.”
“Why do all of you insist on naming everything after me?” Rika asked.
“Really?” Heather twisted in her seat. “Do you actually have to ask that?”
She didn’t really understand what Heather was getting at, but let the matter drop.
“Tug is disconnecting,” Chief Ona announced. “She’s got a long, lonely flight ahead of her.”
“Stay safe, Tug 78A10,” Rika sent to the pilot as the craft drifted above the Fury Lance and began to apply braking thrust.
“You too, Colonel Rika. Good luck. I’ll be back at Pyra in three weeks and I’ll pass along your regards.”
“Please do,” Rika replied. “Fury Lance out.”
“Gotta love jump gates,” Heather said, a soft chuckle making her shoulders rise. “Three seconds here, three weeks back.”
“Was closer to two seconds,” Chief Garth said.
“Closer to two seconds what?” Heather turned her head and gave the chief a baleful look.
“Uhh…one point eight?”
Ona elbowed him and whispered, “ ‘Captain Heather’.”
“Shit, sorry, ma’am, er, Captain Heather. With all the promotions lately, I get confused.”
“Heather was an officer before, too, Chief,” Rika reminded him.
“Yeah, but back then, she was just ‘Smalls’.”
“Who said you could call me ‘Smalls’,” Heather growled at the chief.
“Ummm…you did?”
Heather cocked her head to the side and raised a finger to her chin. “Hmm…I think you’re right. OK, Garth, you’re grandfathered in, but it’s on you to make sure that no FNMs call me ‘Smalls’. Unless I say they can.”