Randolph Lalonde - Spinward Fringe Broadcast 08 - Renegades

by Randolph Lalonde

  Minh-Chu was only faintly aware of the command crew of the Warlord in the large observation room as he held Ashley tightly. “I missed you so much,” she whispered into his ear. Ashley didn’t have to say so, her quiet tears and trembling were more than enough sign that nearly two months away was too long.

  “I missed you, too,” Minh-Chu replied. He was exhausted, and almost as happy to be away from the cargo train, where he spent hours participating in defusing a giant bomb, as he was to see Ashley.

  A joyful screech sounded from their right the instant before a toddler Nafalli landed on their shoulders and attempted to burrow between them. Minh-Chu loosened his embrace to let her in, and after a few seconds of manoeuvring, he was nose to nose with the toddler. “Zoe!” Minh-Chu shouted exaggeratedly. “You’re twice the girl you were when I left! How are you growing so fast?”

  “Minh-Chu!” she said perfectly in her squeaky high voice before kissing him between the eyes and burying her pink nose in the collar of his vacsuit.

  “She’s been practicing that,” Ashley said, her tears of joy abating. “And picking up English fast lately.”

  “Her Loodau, our Nafalli language, is very good too,” Panloo, a tall, white furred Nafalli said, flashing a glad smile. “She has to learn to slow down and inflect, but it’ll come. She’s in her first hunting age now.”

  Minh-Chu looked at Ashley who closed her eyes and nodded. “I’ve never seen anything with so much energy, and she’s into everything. She has two modes: full speed and passed out.”

  Zoe squirmed and turned to look at Ashley. “Chompie?”

  “Go see Mom,” Ashley replied.

  To Minh-Chu’s surprise, the toddler leapt out of their arms and made the four-metre jump between them and Panloo effortlessly. “It’s this one’s lunch time, I’ll see you later,” Panloo said as Zoe made herself at home over one of the large Nafalli’s shoulders. “Welcome back, Minh.”

  “Thank you,” Minh-Chu replied.

  “How was it?” Ashley asked.

  “More interesting than we expected. We gathered a lot of intelligence, filled in a lot of blanks, finished a couple deals we couldn’t make within earshot of Haven Shore. We made a bigger capture than we expected in the end, and we know exactly where to hit the Order from this end.”

  “I’m coming with you next time,” Ashley said. “Even if I have to stow away.”

  “I don’t think anyone has a problem with that, I wasn’t the only one who missed you.”

  “You were the only one who missed me like this, I hope,” Ashley said with an upraised eyebrow.

  Minh-Chu smiled and gave her a light kiss. “Everyone would have felt a lot better with you at the helm.”

  “My trainer rotation on the Triton ended yesterday,” Ashley said. “So I have nothing but time, and an empty apartment.”

  “I won’t be much good to you before I get some sleep,” Minh-Chu said. “And that’s on hold until we finish a couple things.”

  The next group of people disembarking from the Warlord came through the inner airlock. Bryson, the shipwright foreman, led most of his people into the observation area. When he was sure everyone came through behind him and the inner airlock door was re-sealed, he cleared his throat and approached Captain Valent with a look of determination. He offered his hand and Jake Valent shook it. “We did everything we were supposed to for you, Sir, and you’ll find our work is second-to-none.”

  “I know, I was there,” Jake said with a little levity.

  “It was a pleasure,” Bryson replied, nodding. “But I have to say something I couldn’t while we were underway. We were to build aboard your ship while you conducted exploration and intelligence gathering. We all knew the Warlord could come under attack, and that was covered in our contract. What I didn’t expect was to have our contract with you broken when you started a fight with a ship that matches your own, if not in construction, in the cunning of her crew. I’ll be lodging a formal complaint, and I doubt the British Alliance will make any shipwrights or repair facilities available to you again.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jake said. “Is there anything I can do to make this up to you?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. You’re a good captain, but I believe it’s my duty to my men to report any ill use of them.” The master shipwright walked off then, leading the rest of his team deeper into the Triton. Minh-Chu assumed they would make their way to another mooring point where a British Alliance ship would meet them, and take them back to the fleet proper. Most of the British Alliance builders didn’t look at Jake or anyone else from the Warlord, but Minh-Chu could tell they had mixed feelings.

  “At least we have people coming from Haven Shore,” Stephanie said as she walked towards Ashley and Minh-Chu. He detached from Ashley so she could hug Stephanie, but it was a brief embrace.

  “Ayan tried to get our motion passed to become Haven Shore citizens,” Ashley said. “She even made sure it went through someone else, but it failed. We can’t recruit from Haven Shore or Tamber, and you guys still can’t sell them anything you found out there.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been following politics closely,” Minh-Chu said, a little impressed.

  “Yahuh, it’s been interesting here. The Council only meets three days a week, but so much happens every time. They started reformation at the end of their last session, so the Council’s size is probably tripling, not that we’ll have any representation there.”

  “The Triton will,” Oz said as he entered the Observation Room. “I’ll make sure your interests are represented through me. Welcome back.”

  “Thank you for offering, Oz,” Jake said. “But I think we’ll keep all our interests in orbit with the Triton. Haven Shore may only be good for shore leave. Can I have a minute? I have an offer or three for you.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Minh-Chu considered going with them for a minute, but knew exactly what Jake would be putting on the table, and it was all too good for Oz to pass up. The beats of the negotiation and the outcome were obvious; Jake didn’t need his help.

  “So, was it worth it?” Ashley asked Stephanie.

  “Was what worth what?” Stephanie replied.

  “The two months away.”

  “Oh yeah,” Stephanie said with a serpentine smile. “We visited eleven ports, stole more data from more crews than I thought was possible, and got the lay of the land out there. Regent Galactic’s companies, even the Order of Eden, have a whole soft underbelly, and it’s bigger than anyone thought. What we brought in today is nothing compared to what we can get our hands on. The Order doesn’t think anyone knows how much they depend on the supply routes at this end, or how much property Regent Galactic has, but we know now, and when we hit them in the future, it’ll be surgical. We know how to really hurt them.”

  “Not to mention,” Minh-Chu added, “the Warlord crew may be small, but they’re all experienced information gatherers now, even the Samurai Squadron.”

  “I wish I went with you this time,” Ashley said. “It sounds like there was a lot to see.”

  “Oh, there were long boring parts too,” Stephanie said.

  “Just ask Joyboy,” Minh-Chu added. “He holds the record for signal interception duty. We had to leave him adrift in a fighter for six days so he could listen in on a Regent Galactic rebroadcasting node. I think he’d made up imaginary friends by the time we got back to him.”

  “Oh gosh, okay,” Ashley chuckled. “Still missed you guys, though.”

  “Me too,” Minh said. “I’m glad the Warlord needs its pilot back now that things are about to get really exciting.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Shozo Of House Fallen Star

  “The new drive is complete on the Fallen Star, my Dominant,” Shozo told Clark. The sound of her voice, and the comforting presence she offered through her biological emanations made it impossible for her to surprise Clark as she approached him from behind. Humans who couldn’t feel her presence through their noses or
skin were often startled by her, since it was Shozo’s habit to observe a person unseen if she could before approaching them, usually from behind. She made no sound as she moved, breathed, or observed the space around her with bright, wide blue eyes.

  She almost looked human under the neck to floor-length dress she imitated. Her neck was a little too long, her curly blue hair always looked wet, and her fingers were too long, so to any human she still seemed alien, even from behind. Once they got over her interpretation of how she felt she’d want to look as a human, Shozo’s face drew all the attention. It was a piece of shape shifter art, especially since it matched her personality so well. Her big blue eyes spoke of a quest for wonders, boundless curiosity, and her little pursed lips suited her shy nature just as much as her squeaky voice did.

  “The tests were successful?” Clark, known to so many as The Beast, asked.

  “They were beautiful. A splash of gravity around the ship, and like a little cotoa fish, it was gone. Nine point three light years in five seconds, better than predicted. The navigational system is being upgraded, but that will be complete by the end of the day. All but one of the shuttles need more work that will take much longer, I’m sorry.”

  “There’s no need to apologize, Shozo, you were only supposed to observe and report on this project, but you’ve shown how quickly you can learn, and you’ve taken charge several times while I was unavailable. I don’t think I’ve heard from any of our builders for a week because they prefer to communicate through you.”

  “I’m sorry, Dominant. You delivered us from decay, and are wonderful. They should universally love you,” Shozo said. “I am alive because of your generosity.”

  While it was true to an extent – Clark had given her a piece of his own framework technology in a graft so it could help her regenerate the contaminated tissue that was killing her – he didn’t like being thanked for it. There was no way he could have known what an incredible, artful person he was saving at the time, and now that he did, seeing her so vividly alive was more than enough of a reward. Her dress was caught in a slight gust, and the hem raised just enough for a pair of soldiers in dark green armour to catch a glimpse at how she moved along.

  Instead of feet, Shozo had thousands of hair-thin tendrils that allowed her to glide along the floor with silence and grace. They served her just as well in water. The soldiers seemed a little surprised, but couldn’t help but grin at Shozo’s endearing visage as she smiled at them. “No one should expect to be universally loved, even by the people who trust them to lead,” Clark said.

  “But that’s not what Eve seems to think. She speaks to her followers like they all love her, and she recruits people quickly, demanding their love, and so many give it freely after her people have cared for them. I keep wondering if your living would be easier if you asked to be loved like she does. I say this with respect, my Dominant.”

  “It’s hard for humans to express their needs. They mostly depend on vocal languages. Their instincts tell them that’s a weakness, or their social group isn’t open enough. Issyrians are lucky, they can sense when someone in the pod is in need, and that is one of the things that saved me.” Clark felt strange explaining human limitations to her. She was an appealing, dainty looking creature, while he was jagged, in angular carapace armour growing from his flesh, and a death’s head face that most humans could barely stand to look at. “I can’t hide my emotions or vulnerabilities when I’m in the waters with your people, and they respond.”

  “Our people, my Dominant,” Shozo reminded. “With respect.”

  “I’ve been away from the pools for too long,” he replied. “Sometimes I forget.” He looked past her through an upcoming transparent section of hull. They were aboard the Overlord Two, in the middle of the First Fleet of the Order of Eden. Another group of brand new destroyers build by Regent Galactic was arriving from the Iron Head Nebula, loaded to the airlocks with supplies, and woefully under crewed. Regent Galactic had no problem manufacturing all the ships and supplies they needed, but the recruiting efforts near the Iron Head Nebula and the nearby systems were not as rewarding as they had to be.

  Clark noticed that Shozo was staring through the transparent hull as they passed the deck-height window. A concern weighted her expression, and he could feel her anxiety, which was normally a minor note of her fragrance, but it was rising to an overpowering potency. “One assignment ends, and another begins. The builders can finish their work without you, but I still need your help, Shozo.”

  “I know, you don’t have to speak it. I only wish you could shed this war and take us to clearer waters,” she said, her big eyes looking through his corpulent visage without flinching. “You refuse all help from the Fallen Star House, and let no Issyrian fight for you, but your human generals disobey your orders. I heard you speaking to two of them who killed millions of humans, and I could feel that it was against your orders.”

  “They were governors, but they may as well have been generals,” Clark corrected gently. The conversations she was talking about were some of the least pleasant events from the last few months. A pair of governors contacting him, boasting that they’d used all the power of the Order of Eden in their area to take the Nuham System, bombarding the inhabitants of five colonized worlds into ruin and near extinction. They were to communicate with Nuham and offer them terms, not try once then blitz them into oblivion. His grip on Regent Galactic and Order of Eden forces was slipping; there were many ambitious governors who wanted his place.

  “I am sorry, my Dominant,” Shozo said. “Is that different?”

  “No, their rank and position makes no difference. They’re supposed to help me control these sectors so we can manage the Edxian’s settlements in this galaxy. That’s not happening, so I’m bringing them here soon.”

  “I sense deception,” Shozo whispered. “I am shamed in admitting that I’m intrigued.”

  “They think I’m going to be pinning medals on them,” Clark replied. “But I value medals as much as the Issyrians do.” He could instantly feel that she understood what he was inferring – Issyrians had no love for medals. Their deeds were remembered best by their fellows, and the more good a member of the community did, the more the feelings of others towards them spread through the waters. Anyone swimming into their clutch or near it would know who the most goodly Issyrians were, and who they had impressed.

  Her anxiety only abated a little, and he started to realize that most of the anxiety was for him, not herself. The airlock leading to the Fallen Star, the home of their Issyrian House, was just around the corner. It was time for him to give her the next assignment. “I am sorry for what I have to ask you to do for me, Shozo,” Clark said.

  “Anything, my Dominant,” she replied, her eyes and essence revealing more curiosity than apprehension.

  “I pressed you to make sure the Fallen Star was ready with the new faster than light system because I have to ask you to go far away. If the system works as it should, your journey won’t be dangerous, but your skills at diplomacy and your empathy will be crucial to you when you meet with the people I need you to see. You are going to lead the Fallen Star, the House will accept you as a pod matron.”

  “Will I be back soon?” Shozo asked, unable to mask her worry.

  “No, I’m sorry. You will never be able to return to the fleet,” Clark told her, feeling a wash of sadness pass to him from her. He had to demand this of her, she was the perfect person for the mission, but it was difficult for him to keep his resolve.

  “House Fallen Star will collectively mourn your absence, regardless of how long it takes you to follow us on our journey,” she hesitated a moment. “You will be following us?” she asked with no hesitation. He couldn’t help but feel that he was abusing her devotion to him, but there was no one else he’d send.

  Clark knew she could feel his sorrow at her departure. That would be some consolation to her. “Not for some time, perhaps never,” Clark replied. “But I need you to find a life for t
hat House, a new purpose. The Order is not the place for you.”

  To anyone listening in on the conversation, they would hear it end there. A long moment of silence was filled with notions of love, sadness, and a shared understanding that could only be expressed chemically. After several minutes, Shozo of House Fallen Star quietly left.

  CHAPTER 22

  Two Captains

  “The Carthans are down, they’re not recovering, and they’re not getting reinforcements here,” Jacob Valent told Captain Terry Ozark McPatrick. “How can the contract for Haven Shore keep us out?”

  The broad causeway leading to the bridge of the Triton was busy again. Repair crews moved between the various system access areas leading to the nerve centre of the ship. People recognized both of the commanders immediately: Oz in a black and silver Triton Officer vacsuit and Jake in his long coat and heavy black vacsuit. The armoured long coat was a replacement, as was his vacsuit, but his battle-worn sidearm was a survivor. The back of the weapon poked out from behind his jacket as he walked towards the lifts.

  “You know I’d love to see Triton, Haven Shore, and the Warlord all get along, but for now we’ll have to settle for you and me building Triton Fleet, getting on while Haven Shore drifts off,” said Oz.

  “How is Carthan influence still holding us back? They can’t enforce something on Tamber without dropping the ball on the major ports under their control on Kambis.”

  “They have a media machine, their solar system news feed. It concentrated on how Ayan broke things off with you, then pushed Liam right out of the solar system. The vote for keeping the Warlord out of Haven Shore had everything to do with perception, not much to do with politics.”

  Jake couldn’t help but scoff and shake his head at how petty the game the Carthans played was. They made Ayan look like some man-eater, when the truth was far more elusive. It was true that she broke things off with him with little explanation, and that burned for months. What Jake regretted most about that situation was that he let her go; he didn’t fight for her at all, and, in retrospect, he believed he should have, at least until he understood why she had to break ties with him. He didn’t know or care to know much about her relationship with Liam, but he was quietly pleased that it didn’t work out. Gossip wasn’t something he enjoyed, but that news was welcome even though he was in the middle of a convenient relationship with someone else at the time. His focus returned to the moment, walking with an old friend. Oz was probably one of the few people in the galaxy who understood him. “How many voted against the motion to split away from Carthan support?” Jake asked.