“But the Matayan royal family and our peoples are now divided between these two factions. My younger brother, Nellis II sides with the Emperor, and has become his heir. They are still slaves to the old ways and Triax. The Prime Minister is the one pursuing a courageous shift in our allegiance. Until this civil war is resolved, my people will not be reliable allies. And I agree with you. My people should never get their hands on the Matrix of the Kexx.”
Naero sighed and stood. “We’re witnessing a historical shift. Old ideas, prejudices, and allegiances are collapsing and mutating even as we watch. Rapid growth and change are always chaotic and dangerous, even destructive. If my parents were still here, they would say that the universe needs to grow up, and that we must help it grow in positive directions that benefit the most people fairly.”
Tarim cleared his throat. “This all means war. Many wars, big and small. You don’t know Triax and the Corps the way I do. They will not give up anything that they see as theirs. Do you think Triax and the other Corps are going to just stand by and watch the Matayan Worlds and the rich Mining Revolt Worlds get annexed by rivals that they see as their worst enemies? They’re going to band together as never before and fight like hell, for as long as they think they still have a chance at winning or holding on to some of their own.”
“Agreed,” Aunt Sleak said. “Those wars are already starting. They just haven’t fully exploded yet. But it’s all coming. Everyone on all sides knows it. All the more reason we have to get away as quickly as possible.”
“How does Triax keep finding us?” Klyne asked. “I’m still not certain we don’t have...an internal problem.”
Everyone in the room kept quiet. No one wanted to consider how damaging and deadly it might be to have a traitor or spy among them.
“It’s not me,” Ellis said flatly. “I know I’m the logical suspect, but you’re watching me constantly. You know this.”
“I don’t think it’s you,” Klyne said. “But whoever is doing so, if they are, has some method of getting info to our enemies we cannot detect. Yet none of it makes any sense.”
No one mentioned Baeven, or whatever his real name was.
Klyne suddenly touched up the com button near his right ear and sat up.
“It’s starting. This just in from INS. On the main screen.”
Everyone turned to watch the primary viewscreen. A female announcer read an emergency broadcast.
In a brazen and provocative series of illegal military actions, Joshua Tech fleets launch multiple surprise attack waves to annex both the Matayan Empire and several Triax Mining Revolt Worlds. In defense, Triax declares Intercorporate War. For the time being, the treacherous Spacer Military–long-term ally of the pariah corporation–pledges to abide by its treaties and remain neutral. How long will these dangerous invaders stay out of the current escalating conflict?
Meanwhile, Triax announces full mobilization of its brave naval fleets to defend its legal sovereignty, interstellar property, and possession rights. Triax valiantly stands alone.
Massive fleet conflicts are only a week or two away to decide these issues. Subjugated worlds loyal to Triax’s shining way of life and liberty pledge their absolute defiance and resistance.
“Kill the audio,” Klyne said. He chuckled openly. “Resistance, my ass. By our Intel, the annexed worlds are in fact celebrating getting out from under Triax’s heel. But INS sure isn’t going to report that.”
Vid footage showed the massive Triax naval build up underway. Naero noticed that there wasn’t any mention about how the Corps military build up had already been proceeding for months before any inkling of hostilities.
“Joshua Tech and its new allies can handle Triax,” Aunt Sleak said. “But the other Gigacorps won’t stand by and let that happen. Most of them will pile in, sooner rather than later, and Joshua Tech will be overwhelmed. That will pull in The Spacer Alliance, and then everything will be up for grabs.”
Klyne clenched his fists. “It was going to happen again eventually. I think we should launch the Shadow Fleets and fight our way out of the Corps while we still have the chance.”
“What exactly are the Shadow Fleets?” Naero asked. “How many ships strong are they?”
“In numbers, several fleets. But they’re scattered all over the place. At the end of the last Spacer War with the Corps, we secreted detachments of our warships deep within Gigacorps territory. The right commands over certain channels and those ships will launch and regroup at strategic rally points once more.”
“Ships like The Alamo,” Naero said.
“Most of those ships are decades old,” Aunt Sleak noted. “Once the element of surprise is lost, they’d be outnumbered and outclassed by the current, modern Corps fleets.”
“Maybe not so much,” Klyne noted. “Our tek has always been ahead of the Corps. Upgrades and refits have been made when and where possible, without attracting undue attention. At least the Shadow Fleets would give us a fighting chance early on.”
Naero frowned. “I don’t know if Jan and I want to be the cause of that. Billions, perhaps trillions of lives lost. For nothing.”
Klyne sighed heavily. “You’re just one of the causes, and right now we don’t have much of a choice in all this. It’s happening. Better to fight this war now while we still have a slight tek advantage over the Corps’ numbers,” Klyne said.
Aunt Sleak rested her chin on knitted hands. “But if they catch us and squeeze any part of the Kexxian Matrix out of you and your brother, you can bet your asses that within a decade or two, they’ll come straight at us with tek we can’t ever hope to match. And that’ll be it for everyone. Do you want to be the cause of a total corporate dominion of the galaxy?”
“No. Definitely not,” Naero said. She took her seat.
Jan finally said something. “At least the annexation could make our initial escape easier in the confusion of the erupting war. I’ve been studying these star charts. Look at this. If we jump through these contested Triaxian mining worlds and through a few Matayan systems, we’ll be right at a Joshua Tech forward naval base and ship yard at Nuratine-5.”
Aunt Sleak shook her head. “Sure. Right where the war is bound to blow up the hottest.”
“No,” Klyne said, studying the course. “Jan’s right. His interstellar navigation skills are genius. It would be close, but his plan would save us days of travel off our current route. We’d reach allied space before the war really heats up on the front lines in those forward areas. I think we have to give this serious consideration.”
Naero put a hand on her beaming brother’s shoulders and rose to her feet again. “I think we have to risk it. Let’s not hesitate. Let’s put it to a vote right now.”
Dire consequences to their actions remained, whatever they decided. Easy choices evaporated by the minute.
They held a quiet wake for Gallan and their other casualties two days later while still in jump. Naero muttered some words for his loss, but they caught in her throat like broken glass.
She remained in shock. Her grief still too deep and raw.
41
Jan’s route remained risky, but it cut valuable time off of their escape. Precious time they could no longer waste with open war looming over them.
They would need to re-program their small ship’s registration, IDs, and cover stories, just in case they ran afoul of enemy patrols.
Yet a tiny ship like theirs could slip through where an entire fleet could not. They renamed it The Bristol.
After six days and three rapid jumps, their luck held.
Then their jump drive malfunctioned, drained their energy core, toasted several major systems, and almost blew the ship up.
That left them limping on sublight through dangerous mining systems soon to be war zones.
Easy pickings for anyone from any enemy faction who stumbled upon them.
All efforts focused on recharging the core and getting their jump drive back online.
Naero, Jan, and eve
n Aunt Sleak assisted Klyne and the engineer with the diagnostics and repairs. The air charged with the stench of fried electronics and ozone.
“Was it sabotage?” Aunt Sleak asked quietly.
“Our traitor again?” Naero said.
Klyne shook his head. “We’re not sure.”
“If so,” Jan added, studying the readouts. “they’re very good at hiding their tracks. All of this could have just been bad luck. Jump drives and other systems fail all the time, and we’ve been taxing ours way beyond the specs, and on an old ship.”
“Still, it’s pretty convenient to just be bad luck,” Aunt Sleak noted.
“Perhaps that Triax boarding party did something to us,” Naero suggested. “Something that wouldn’t show up until later and strand us.”
“We’ve considered that option as well. They did do a fair amount of damage during their search. Perhaps our Teks missed something. In any case, we’re heading for Boon-3, an old mining depot and junk world seven hours away. It’s a haven for miners now and under the figurative protection of Joshua Tech. We’ll effect repairs there and push on.”
“We don’t have an escort anymore?” Naero asked. “Why can’t they just tow us into jump?”
Klyne frowned. “We don’t have very many of those new stealth ships yet, and their tek is still experimental and fickle. With the war on, they’re badly needed on the front lines and many other places, gathering intel. We’ve been doing well up until now. I thought we were home free, so I let them return to their other duties.”
They were on their own, in the middle of nowhere, with a crippled ship. Surrounded by enemies.
And perhaps a traitor on board.
An old mining transport happened upon them. When the rebel captain spotted Naero, Tarim, Sleak’s Ejjai slayer patches on the back and the arms of their jump jackets, he couldn’t do enough for them.
They got towed to Boon-3 in less than two hours.
“Junk world” didn’t do the planet justice.
The ancient mining depot lay surrounded among virtual mountains of trash, wrecks, and discarded piles of garbage from a couple centuries of space travel out that way.
So much so that the few million locals built their homes among and on top of it all.
Chaos did not begin to describe Boon-3.
Even the slight presence of Joshua Tech did not impose any order.
Only the influx of millions of miners and their rough justice kept the situation from getting completely out of hand.
Their local guide turned out to be the same two-bit rascal that towed them in. Captain Bully, a tall, fat, red-faced miner with a big handle-bar moustache.
The rascal of a renegade pilot wore big tattered boots with his toes poking out, and a greasy jump suit that might have been red once. He tugged his scorched stocking cap over his big balding head, gesturing expansively with his thick sausage fingers poking out from fingerless gloves like they were trying to escape.
His rockgrinding voice snarled. “Soze, it’s parts ya need for a jump drive, iz it? Well, suh, we got us parts by the klick here on Boon. It’s gettin’ the damn things ta work that’s the problem.”
He let out a big belly laugh. “Come on. We’ll find somethin’ we can rig. I thought miners was the best scrounges in the known uneeverse. But ya ain’t seen nuthin’ until you’ve seen these Booners. They don’t let nuthin’ go ta waste. Whether it works or not, they’ll sell it ta ya all right. Just don’t let on how bad ya needs it. They’re fair hands at hagglin’, too.”
Naero suddenly gasped and fell to her knees.
Like another sword shoved through her head.
Naero? I think I’ve finally found a way to access our defense protocols. Can you hear me?
Om. You’re really hurting me. I’m going numb. I can’t stand up.
Apologies. I shall effect immediate repairs.
Aunt Sleak looked back at her in alarm. She knelt quickly by Naero’s side and steadied her.
“Naero? What’s wrong.”
“I-I think I’m sick or something.”
Aunt Sleak blinked. “Sick? With your metabolism? You’ve never been sick.”
“First time for everything I guess.”
“Sleak and I will stay with Captain Bully and get the parts we need,” Klyne said. “Jan, Tarim, Ellis, Irith–you get Naero back to the ship and on a med bed. Get her checked out and stay with her.”
In the end, they had to carry her.
Om. What in the hell did you do to me? I can’t walk or even stand up.
Apologies. It took almost all of our energy reserves to break through part of the barriers. We too are very weak. Rest, food, and liquids should suffice.
So, what’s the word, Om?
I think we’ll be able to activate some limited access to our defensive abilities and certain sub-routines that may prove helpful. Are we in any current danger?
No. So don’t kill anyone Om.
We will remain cut off from the bulk of our defensive protocols. I have focused all of my efforts on breaking through and gaining at least some access. But it has been costly.
No shit. I think you nearly burned us out. I can’t be crippled by these efforts of yours. I need to get back up to speed.
Thanks to her friends, they made it back onto to the ship.
Naero begged for food and drink, and lots of it.
She gobbled it all down while her friends stared at her. She ignored them and went promptly to sleep.
They had to know by now how insane she was.
She awoke hours later, her sterile sickbay room dark. Tarim sat across from her, dozing in a chair. He noticed her looking at him.
“Hey, Naero. Good. You’re awake. We were worried about you.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“What’s up with you? You okay?”
Naero needed to tell someone. Tarim was a good choice. She just needed someone else in her life to confide in–now that Gallan was gone.
So she told him about Om. The Kexxian Data Matrix defensive AI sharing her mind.
At first he looked at her and rubbed his palms on his thighs nervously. Like she was nuts.
But as she continued to describe what she was going through, Tarim took it all in and slowly began to believe her. She could see it in his eyes.
“Wow, N. That sounds pretty intense. But what if you could learn to control this thing in your head? Sounds like he could be a lot of help to us. What more can he do?”
“I…I don’t know. I’m kind of afraid to find out.”
The real problem remained. Naero wasn’t sure she could control herself or even her own hidden abilities if they were ever unleashed. Let alone Om.
She didn’t even know what her unknown abilities were or how to use them.
Frustration roiled up in her like an angry ocean during a storm.
I can help you, Naero. We can begin to explore our capabilities together once we are feeling better. But you must remain calm and focused. Mental discipline in such matters is always key. And your are at times…unstable.
Look who’s talking. All right. Later then. Let me rest now, Om.
Yes. Very well.
“Tarim?”
“Yeah. I’m still here. I thought you drifted off again.”
“I was chatting with Om. Where’s everyone else?”
“Working on the jump drive with Captain Bully.” Tarim chuckled. “Your aunt Sleak keeps complaining she was cheated on the deal, but they think they can modify the various junk parts they brought back to get us back in space.”
Something kept bothering her. It wouldn’t let her alone.
“That’s good. Hey, can you fetch Aunt Sleak for me? I really need to talk to her.”
“I’ll get her if I can.” He left quickly.
Aunt Sleak returned in his place. She sat down in the same chair, looking puzzled, tired, and frustrated.
“What’s so important? We’re really busy, Naero.”
“I can’t help it.
You need to tell me what happened to Jan’s twin brother.”
“You’re crazy. Why does it matter now? That was years ago.”
“I don’t know. Ever since I found out, it’s been eating at me. I just really have this feeling that it’s very important somehow. I must know.”
Her aunt knitted her hands, bowed her head, and sighed.
“All right, I’ll make it fast. You were only two years old and visiting relatives. Your parents had many powerful enemies, especially your mother, and a lot of that because of her association with Baeven. When she was about to give birth to twin boys, her ship was returning to the fleet from an important negotiation and trade run.
“A suicide squad of high-tek Hevangian assassins waylaid and attacked her ship, bent on killing everyone, especially your mother. In order to send a message.
“Tarthan and I rushed to her aid with the fleet and others, while the assassins hunted her throughout the decks of her own ship. They were formidable foes, killing everyone in their path. The crew fought bravely to buy them time, with their lives.
“Janner was born even as your father and I docked and fought our way in wearing our battlesuits, squads of Spacer Marines swarming all over the ship from every angle, backing us up. Your father went on a rampage. He was like a monster unleashed; it was terrifying. I could barely keep up with him. He waded through those assassins and slaughtered them by the dozens, ripping them apart.
“But the enemy had your mom trapped and closed in on her to finish the job. She was in a very bad way. Janner had just been born and Danner was just coming out when the assassins fell upon her and the few survivors. She made Zalvano promise to take Jan to safety. She gave him her cutlass. Zal cut his way into an escape pod nearby and blasted away, still fighting with two of the assassins inside the pod with him. He was badly wounded, but he took out the two killers and kept Jan safe.”
Aunt Sleak took a breath.
“What happen to my mom, and–”
“In the chaos and confusion, the assassins killed the medic and tore Danner from her hands right after he was born. They…they cut Danner in half right in front of your mother, just as the compartment de-compressed and many were sucked out of the open air lock from the escape pod.
Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run Page 31
