by M. D. Cooper
“Whoa!” Camille shouted. “What the hell is this?”
Troy saw that she was reviewing scan, and pulled it up on the main holo.
Passive scan had picked up a host of engine flares less than an AU from the Voyager’s current position. Without active sweeps, it was difficult to tell them all apart, but he estimated that there were at least four hundred ships.
“Shit,” Carl whispered. “Those are Bollam’s World SF drive signatures.”
“Wow! They came all the way here?” Camille ran a hand through her hair, glancing worriedly at the other humans. “That’s some serious dedication.”
“Four hundred ships may not be a huge force, but it’s almost overkill for either of those purposes,” Carl replied.
“They haven’t spotted us, have they?” Rama asked.
“Doubt it, Rams.” Camille leant over to pat the other woman on the shoulder. “None of their ships have turned. With their engine wash headed this way, they don’t stand a chance of spotting us. No way, no how.”
“Well, at least there’s one good thing about our friends from the BWSF showing up,” Carl said, a smile on his lips.
“Oh?” Camille asked. “What’s that?”
“It’ll flush out Katrina.”
Troy suspected that he was right, but it could just as easily result in her becoming completely inaccessible—or being killed.
INTO THE FLAMES
STELLAR DATE: 02.06.8512 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Castigation
REGION: Nesella Station, Regula, Midditerra System
Katrina opened her eyes and stared at the overhead in her cabin, wishing she could figure out how to sleep with her eyes open.
“I suppose it’s possible,” she whispered to herself. “Though I doubt that would help my dreams.”
Granted, she’d barely slept enough to dream over the last few days, anyway. The visions of Juasa had gotten worse, mixed with Gunter, Lara, Hana, and others she’d killed, or simply maimed.
Even Malorie appeared before Katrina when she attempted to sleep, the woman’s organic head atop her insectile, robot body, accusing her of ruining everything.
“Maybe I did,” Katrina muttered. “But you ruined it first.”
Juasa appeared before her again, her face centimeters from Katrina’s own, a smile on her lips. Katrina could almost smell Juasa’s breath, her warm musk, feel her hair falling around them both, tickling her ears.
“Oh, Ju,” Katrina whispered. “I’m so sorry…I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. What’s the point of all this?”
“You could be happy,” Juasa whispered. “You could forget all of this, just leave.”
“Where?” Katrina asked. “Where could I go that this all wouldn’t happen again?”
Juasa’s eyes were kind and forgiving as she looked down at Katrina. “Come be with me, Katrina. Forget this world. Forget Midditerra, Troy, Tanis, the Intrepid. Leave it all behind and come be with me forever.”
Katrina felt tears streaking her cheeks. She knew Juasa wasn’t real. She was imagining this, right? Did that mean that she wanted to kill herself?
Juasa faded away, and Katrina felt even emptier than before.
“How messed up am I, that seeing my dead lover encouraging me to kill myself is comforting?”
She wiped the tears from her face, and rolled onto her side, giving her back a break from the pain of laying on it. Initially, Katrina had shunted the pain from her ‘skin’ away when sleeping, but she found that after spending her days with the constant pain, trying to sleep without it created a loud emptiness in her mind.
It didn’t make any sense. She wondered if somehow the change she’d wrought on herself had created some of the psychological issues she now clearly dealt with.
“Except I’m fucking stuck like this,” she whispered. “Maybe I could get the medtable from Revenence Castle up to the Castigation and take a long flight across the system while it puts me back together again.”
Katrina paused, realizing that she was talking aloud. She wondered what that said about her.
She’d not found any better medical tech in Nesella, and even the MDF didn’t have anything as good as Malorie and Jace’s medtable. Loot from some raid on an advanced ship or system, she guessed, superior to what the rest of Midditerra has available.
“I’m not going to kill myself,” she whispered, saying it aloud to drive the point home. “I’m not. I didn’t survive the sithri fields to quit now.”
“Shit!” Katrina exclaimed as she leapt out of bed and rushed out of the room.
That meant they’d been in the system for at least forty minutes. Long enough to assess the general state of things.
Stars, I’m really out of it.
“Teegarten,” Katrina muttered as she brought up the data on the fleet.
Katrina reached the lift and waited for the doors to open, barely aware of the world around her as she looked over the enemy vessels.
The lift arrived, thankfully empty, and Katrina stepped on, not bothering to tell it where to go. Sam would take it to the bridge. He was perhaps the one person she could trust implicitly in the entire system.
“It’s a feint. Has to be,” Katrina replied aloud as she walked onto the bridge.
Jordan was already there, sitting in the captain’s chair and pulling her hair—which looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in a day—back into a messy bun.
“Your friends are here,” she said to Katrina by way of greeting.
“Noticed that,” Katrina replied.
“I have Admiral Odis,” Paula said from the comm station.
“Put him on the tank,” Katrina replied.
“Lady Katrina, Captain Jordan,” Odis said when he appeared. “Looks like the Bollers are trying to draw us out.”
“Is that your assessment?” Katrina asked. “A feint to pull us from the more valuable stations?”
Odis gave a curt nod. “It is, Lady Katrina. A force that size is just large enough that it’s more than a smaller station like Teegarten can defend against. It requires fleet movement to answer it, but that will weaken other defenses.”
“It’s annoyingly clever,” Katrina replied. “It telegraphs the attack, but is just as likely to make us do something stupid as mount an effective defense. We have, what, sixty ships close to Teegarten?”
“Sixty-seven,” Odis replied.
“And the ships that the cantons have sent? There are a dozen headed this way—can we divert them? With the station’s defenses, that may be enough to hold the Bollers back.”
&n
bsp; “Maybe.” Odis appeared to be considering options. “Or maybe we just lose all those ships, and they repeat the strategy, hitting another station we can’t adequately defend.”
Katrina wished she were anywhere but on the bridge of the Castigation. Anywhere but in position to be responsible for the lives of millions. Millions of people she didn’t really like, people she had no business ruling over.
“Admiral Odis. Contact the Teegarten Stationmaster. Signal a general evacuation. There’s nothing we can do for them.”
“A million people live on Teegarten,” Jordan said quietly.
“I know,” Katrina replied. “But there are three hundred million on Nesella. Even more on Uriah. Do we abandon them to protect Teegarten?”
“They won’t all be able to get off,” Odis said, his voice solemn. “Teegarten isn’t exactly known for following safety protocols and keeping enough evac ships onhand.”
Katrina scrubbed her palms against her face, leaving them there as she spoke. “I’m open to options. Lay a plan on me.”
Odis was silent for a moment, his lips pressed tightly together. He stroked his chin. “Well, with the enemy’s current vector, they have a straight shot at Teegarten. But if they are forced to slow enough, it would allow the station to pass behind Kora in its orbit. That would give us enough time to get more ships there to defend—or facilitate evac.”
Katrina brought up Teegarten and Kora, the planet it orbited, on a secondary holo, then expanded the view to show the approaching Bollam’s World ships.
“They’ll have already fired an initial kinetic salvo.”
Odis nodded. “They have. We picked it up. We’ve not managed to track every shot, but we’ve detected about half. The ships in that sector are moving in to take out incoming rounds as best they can.
Katrina pulled up the MDF ships that were in range of Teegarten.
“Sixty-seven ships against over four hundred…what about the canton-owned ships docked at Teegarten? There are eighty of them.”
“Some are already leaving,” Jordan said. “A lot are legitimate freighters.”
“They better not leave until they take evacuees,” Katrina growled. “Jordan pass an order to the stationmaster to deny debarkation to ships that don’t take passengers. Tell them to come to Nesella.”
“I’ll pass the order, but the stationmaster will have a hell of a time enforcing it.”
Katrina knew that to be true, but if they could save a few extra people, it would be worthwhile.
“Teegarten’s going to be total chaos,” Odis commented.
“Yeah,” Katrina shot back, “War has a way of doing that. This isn’t like exercises or sims. It’s the real world, and we’re in the shit. We have to suck it up and deal with it.”
Odis’s expression grew stony, but he nodded in acknowledgement.
“OK,” Katrina gestured to the holo. “Of those sixty-seven ships, we have three cruisers. Those suckers can pack a punch. If we form the ships into three groups, we can harry the Bollers and slow their approach.”
“It’s risky,” Odis replied. “Rails are our only good option at that range. I don’t know how much we can slow them down.”
“Like I said,” Katrina fixed the admiral with a level stare. “I’m open to options. The station can fire on them, too.”
Odis regarded her silently for half a minute, and Katrina turned away, looking to the holodisplay and wishing she had some inkling as to where the main attack would hit. That would tell her from where she could pull resources.
Granted, that would just change the target of the main attack.
Stars…what I wouldn’t give to have Troy’s computational power. He’d be able to map out the whole thing, give me probabilities on every option. This feels like we’re planning a battle with pen and paper.
Odis’s mouth set in a firm line, and Katrina knew he wouldn’t agree to reconfigure his force—not without a fight.
“We’ll do it,” Katrina replied. The Castigation and the Verisimilitude. Sam, run the numbers with those ships added.”
“That’s a huge risk for you,” Odis said, his voice not belying whether or not he thought it would please him to see her in harm’s way.
“You’re telling me,” Jordan said with a soft grunt. “But we’re up for it. Kicking ass is what we do here.”
Katrina caught the dig at the MDF, and she gave Jordan a stern look and sent privately,
Jordan’s response was noncommittal.
Katrina glanced at Odis. “Don’t say I never did anything for this system.”
A small smile graced Odis’s lips. “Show me what that looks like, Warlord.”
Norm’s response was instantaneous.
THE TEMPTRESS
STELLAR DATE: 02.06.8512 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Katrina’s Command Room
REGION: Farsa Station, Persia, Midditerra System
Korin drummed his fingers on the arm of Katrina’s chair—throne, if he was honest with himself—as he waited for Lady Armis to arrive.
He glanced down at the cylinder to his right and held back a shudder of revulsion. After he’d realized what was in the case Katrina had carried to the council meeting, he could imagine what was in the other cylinder resting beside him.
Jace’s brain. Probably.
Korin had never liked Jace much. The man was a boor who tried to behave like a human being from time to time. He’d liked Malorie more. Though she could be cold-hearted, he knew there was a real person deep down inside.
Somehow—despite the fact that there was a human brain floating in a nutrient bath next to him—Jace’s presence wasn’t as disturbing as the two a-grav columns that held Lara and Hana.
Both of the women were suspended in mid-air, life-support tubing running out of ports in their abdomens. Their eyes were closed—he assumed they were unable to open them—and they never opened their mouths, but their chests rose and fell in a slow rhythm.
At present, the pair were breathing in unison, though he’d noticed it wasn’t always the case.
“Stars, I wish I could throw a sheet over them,” he muttered to himself. “Or at least put them out of their misery.”
To his surprise, he saw Lara’s hand twitch, and he realized that the woman might be able to hear him. He was about to rise and approach her, when Astrid, Farsa Station’s administrative AI, informed him that Lady Armis had arrived.
There, this should look imposing enough.
A moment later, Armis strode into the room—alone, as he’d ordered. Even without any guards or attendants, the woman moved as though she commanded everything around her.
Her hair was an iridescent blue, and cascaded over her shoulders like a shimmering waterfall. She wore a long green dress, just the right hue to augment her hair, the look almost making her appear as though she were a forest glade, drifting into the stark room and lighting it up with her presence.
“Commander Korin,” Lady Armis said, inclining her head in respect. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
“Lady Armis.” Korin did not rise as she approached. “I assume you’re here to turn Lady Marion over to me?”
“Commander. You don’t really think I took a grave personal risk in rescuing her only to turn her ove
r, do you?”
Korin shrugged. “Was worth a shot.”
Armis laughed. “I suppose it was. Gets it out of the way, too. Marion has claimed sanctuary with me. Until there is a proper tribunal, there she will stay. And with Katrina away, we’ll just have to wait.”
“If not to discuss Lady Marion, what is the purpose of your visit?” Korin asked. “I don’t have authority from Katrina to handle matters of state.”
“No, I suppose not,” Armis said, glancing at Lara and Hana. “I have to say. I really am not a fan of Katrina’s taste in decorations.”
Korin couldn’t help a small grimace, and Armis spotted it.
“Neither are you, I see.”
“I say kill them or free them.”
“Oh?” Armis arched an eyebrow. “Life imprisonment isn’t an option?”
“Often, a sentence like that is only marginally less cruel than what they’re experiencing now. Unless they escape. Then you may as well have freed them to begin with. Best to just end it.”
“How pragmatic of you,” Armis replied, looking the two women up and down once more. “Tell me, can they hear us?”
“I suspect they can, yes,” Korin replied. “Though I wonder how sane they are anymore.”
Armis began.
Korin clenched his teeth at the thought of what Katrina had done at Selkirk. He understood the point she had been trying to make, but chances were that the people in that factory were completely innocent.
