Aurora Renegades

by G. S. Jennsen

  The volume of adiamene currently being produced by the facility sufficed to meet those needs. But thanks to the most unexpected comm this morning, it would no longer meet all her needs.

  Therefore, she was here to negotiate a deal to expand Advent’s adiamene production to thirty-five percent of the facility’s lines post-haste. She didn’t intend to single-outsource the process forever—it wasn’t good business strategy—but for now it was more efficient to take advantage of the economies of scale generated by doing so.

  Noah leaned over her to peer out the small viewport as they prepared for docking. “Now that is one imposing looking factory.”

  “Hmm.” He wasn’t wrong, but she’d spent enough time visiting orbital factories to have grown accustomed to their admittedly forbidding appearance.

  Hulking rectangular modules stacked three high and four deep were connected by elaborate latticed frames. Production lines churned material through the lattices to the next module, shepherded by mechs. If there were any viewports to break up the monotony of heavy, dark metal, they weren’t visible from this vantage.

  It definitely didn’t qualify as a tourist destination, that much was certain.

  They passed through the force field into a small docking bay meant for personal ships. The big cargo transports docked directly into loading/unloading modules on the other side of the facility. As soon as the clamps engaged they stood and exited the transport, as they were the only passengers.

  A man greeted them at the docking bay entrance. “Ms. Rossi, welcome. I’m Jeffrey Kass, Rasogo II’s administrator and Assistant Director of Manufacturing for Advent Materials.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Kass. This is my business partner, Noah Terrage.”

  “Ah, yes. I’ve met your father on several occasions.”

  Noah rolled his eyes. “Of course you have.”

  Kass looked confused but gestured behind him. “Please, come with me. We’ll go to my office and discuss a few details regarding what you’re expecting, then we’ll walk the virtual production lines and see how we may be able to implement your requests.”

  The floor shuddered beneath them so roughly Kennedy thrust out an arm against the wall to stay upright as Noah’s hands landed on her waist from behind. “Is that normal?”

  The administrator tried and failed to mask a grimace. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

  Hardly an answer. Orbital stations were built with safety as a primary concern, and by and large they were safe. But they were still in space, and space was not safe.

  A shrill alarm pealed through the hall, accompanied by bright flashing lights. Noah grabbed her by the arm and drew her close. “I’m guessing that, however, is something to worry about.”

  “Yes, uh, let’s get to my office. I need to assess the situation. It appears…security is telling me armed mercenaries might have infiltrated the facility via the docking bay. Why would they do such a thing?”

  Noah groaned. “Because it’s what mercenaries do.”

  Kennedy frowned at Noah as they hurried down the hallway. She tried to send a message to the Romane authorities and to Mia, but they both bounced. “Someone’s blocking external comms.”

  Kass shook his head, panting from his accelerated pace and mounting panic. “Well I don’t—”

  As they rushed past an equipment storage room, the floor, the walls and the ceiling all shuddered, far more violently this time. Everything lurched to the right then pitched downward.

  A wrenching sound screeched as something tore free from its moorings.

  Noah shoved her forward.

  A sharp pain zinged across the back of her head.

  She had the vague, inappropriately amusing thought, not again!, and everything went black.

  Portal: Aurora

  (Milky Way)

  32

  ROMANE

  Independent Colony

  Government Headquarters

  * * *

  “Atlantis is eager to jump on board, thanks to its proximity to New Babel. Its leaders are worried they’re next on Montegreu’s list, and they may be right.

  “The good news is, Atlantis’ security force is well trained and professional. The bad news is, the colony will need a full provision of ships; the worse news is, there are increasing signs Zelones has already infiltrated the illicit entertainment industry as well as the gray market. Also, Atlantis’ geographic position between Arcadia and New Babel is not ideal. I’d like to help their government out, but we need to consider it carefully.”

  Ledesme nodded as if the assessment didn’t surprise her. “What about Pyxis?”

  Mia made a hedging motion with her hand. “Not quite so eager. The governor cozied up to the Alliance during the post-war reconstruction. I suspect the leadership realizes the colony needs protection but hasn’t yet decided where they should accept it from.”

  “We won’t drag them in under protest. But if they join the Alliance, we will find ourselves surrounded on three sides by Alliance worlds. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Morgan: Hey, do you know where Noah is?

  Mia: I think he went with Kennedy up to the Advent Materials orbital facility, Rasogo II. Why?

  Morgan: Kennedy was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago to discuss a possible change to the 2nd gen fighters. She’s not answering messages or pulses.

  Mia sighed inwardly. Checking with Noah was the obvious next step. But Morgan didn’t care for Noah, so rather than reaching out to him directly, she was going the long way around.

  It would be faster to simply do it than argue with her. Mia sent Noah a quick pulse.

  No response.

  Mia: Noah’s not answering either. They could be otherwise engaged, but just in case, contact Rasogo II.

  Morgan: Right.

  Mia redirected the fullness of her attention back to Ledesme. “Thank you for taking Pyxis on. Requi’s ready to sign up as well, though they’ll be a bit of a charity case. Sagan is somewhat cool to our overtures, likely due to the Alliance’s efforts defending the colony from the Metigens, but I have a contact there who might be able to help—”

  Morgan: Motherfucker.

  Mia: That good?

  Morgan: Rasogo II is offline. The whole damn station.

  “Governor, there may be a problem at the Advent Materials orbital manufacturing facility. If you can get Defense Chief Herndon on holo, I’ll bring Commander Lekkas in to fill us in on what she knows.”

  “The vessels outside the structure are registered to Total Chemical Solutions, which is why they didn’t trigger an alert from the defense arrays. Clearly either the registration is faked or the ships are stolen.”

  Ledesme’s expression had grown steely. “And they’re towing the Advent Materials facility away from Romane? Do we have any indication where they’re planning on taking it?”

  Herndon shook his head. “No, ma’am. There aren’t any colonies nearby, and I can’t conceive of a way they’d be able to create a superluminal bubble around it. They would need to load a cruiser-class sLume drive onto the station…which I guess they could do, but since they haven’t yet….”

  Mia glanced over from the screen she was studying. “Zelones is liable to have something hidden in an uninhabited system or the void—a secret space station, or a carrier where they plan to offload the equipment, adiamene and whatever else is in the facility then spirit the materials away. Or perhaps their cruiser-class sLume drive is waiting there.”

  The governor gave Mia a skeptical look. “What makes you think this is Zelones—other than the fact that every major incident on independent colonies in the last month has been Zelones led or instigated?”

  Mia considered the intricate logic thread connecting the dots to link together over a hundred disparate facts and form a trail across the galaxy that ended at Olivia Montegreu’s feet.

  “Respectfully, Governor, it’s too complicated to take the time to explain, and I propose our response should be the same regardless of
the perpetrator.”

  “So it should.” Ledesme turned to Morgan’s holo. “Commander Lekkas, I believe it’s time for the IDCC Rapid Response Force to prove its mettle.”

  Morgan’s smile conveyed a mix of anticipation and slightly disturbing fervor. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  RASOGO II

  Romane Stellar System

  Noah awoke to a scream, a cry and an explosion. He couldn’t be sure the order.

  Confused about a number of things, the unexpected sounds being only a few of them, he tried to raise onto an elbow and peer around—

  —a hand landed on his shoulder and urged him back down with a furtive whisper. “They’re close. We need to play dead.”

  “Kennedy?”

  She scooted closer, her stomach on the floor, and placed a finger to his lips then dropped her head beside him and shut her eyes tight.

  It was shadowy in the hall—most of the lighting was out—but her hair was matted and too dark. Blood? He opened his mouth to ask if she was hurt, then remembered her rather insistent admonition.

  At the sound of approaching footsteps, he too tried to play dead.

  “Darren, check the room to the left.”

  A few seconds later the faint whine of laser fire preceded a dull thud.

  Noah’s pulse accelerated, making him grow lightheaded. Whoever ‘they’ were, they had just shot someone.

  “Looks like a couple of bodies over here. Want me to check them?”

  “Nah. It’s a mess down there, and blood’s everywhere. If they’re not dead yet, they soon will be. This way through to the admin offices is blocked. We’ll have to go around.”

  The sound of boots jogging off receded into the distance. He again struggled to reach a sitting position, and again Kennedy stopped him. “Don’t try to move. Your arm’s trapped under some equipment.”

  His arm? Which arm? Not the one he was moving, obviously. His mind felt fuzzy. Slow.

  He looked to the left and was met by a wall of metal centimeters from his face. No, not a wall; it gave way to air at some point high above. A metal crate, then. Possibly several metal crates.

  His head dropped back to the floor. “It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t….” Panic seized his chest with the ferocity of a lightning strike. “Kennedy, I can’t feel my arm!”

  She crawled to her knees and leaned over him to stroke his cheek. “Shhh. Your eVi’s medical routine shut off the pain signals coming from the nerves in your arm. That’s all it is.”

  “Right.” His mind raced sluggishly from thought to thought with no rhyme or reason. He frowned in concern—for himself to be sure, but mostly for her. “Do you have blood in your hair? Are you hurt?”

  She scoffed in defiance of the dire circumstances. “Something hit me in the head when all this equipment came crashing down is all. I blacked out for a minute or two, but I’m fine.” She paused. “Kass is dead.”

  “Shit. So…evidently the facility is under attack by bad guys.”

  “ ‘Bad guys?’ ” She forced a feeble smile. “Is that a technical term?”

  “The most technical. If we can get to the docking bay, you can fly the transport, can’t you?”

  She exhaled. “I can fly it. But we can’t get there. Noah, I can’t move the crate trapping your arm. I tried. It’s wedged between other, even heavier equipment. It’s going to take three or four people to clear all this out, or else machinery.”

  “Oh.” He sucked in a breath and was surprised at the effort required. There was a heaviness in his chest which didn’t seem natural. “So we wait for rescue.” He grimaced. “Assuming rescue is coming.”

  She gave him a weak shrug. “I was supposed to be meeting with Morgan right now. When I don’t show….”

  “She’ll start searching, if only out of annoyance at being stood up. And she has ships with high-powered laser weapons. We simply need to lie low.” He chuckled at his own pun, but it morphed into a cough. Oh, that did not feel good at all.

  It occurred to him then he might be in serious trouble.

  He closed his eyes and worked to force his brain to focus, to actually pay goddamn attention for once, for a few precious seconds. He needed to think this through.

  After the seconds ran out he reopened his eyes and found hers in the darkness. “Kennedy, you need to go—make a run for the docking bay and escape. As soon as you get outside the field jamming the comms, you can alert the authorities. Call in the troops, and they can come rescue me.”

  She stared at him, brow furrowing into tight crevices…was she angry at him? And here he was being all noble and self-sacrificing.

  It wasn’t like he wanted to die alone. But he preferred dying alone and her living to them dying together. And he was surprised at how much he was okay with preferring it. Must be the blood loss.

  “Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you, Noah.”

  “Listen, there’s nothing you can do for me here. I’m trapped good and proper. One of us should—” he almost said ‘survive’ “—get out.”

  Her alluring, full lips quivered in agitation and probably fear, serving as a vanguard for the rest of her features. Then her jaw set. “No.”

  “Come on, Blondie—”

  “You are so damn infuriating! You rescued me when I was trapped under tons of rubble, even though you had every reason in the world to just keep running and save yourself. I may not be able to rescue you, but…but I won’t leave you to…I won’t leave you, dammit, so shut up.”

  33

  ROMANE

  Independent Colony

  Independent Defense Consortium Headquarters

  * * *

  Morgan enlarged the most recent visual scans above the table in the still-makeshift briefing room.

  “This is what we know. Six Class III tugs have attached themselves to the Rasogo II facility. They’re towing it on a bearing N 18.24° -6.05°z W relative to Romane at a speed of 1,800 megameters per hour.

  “Now, normally tugs don’t have weapons beyond a single utility laser, but these are probably Olivia Montegreu’s tugs, which means they’ll probably have legitimate weapons. In addition, they have an escort of five merc hybrid fighters, which are nothing but weapons.

  “Our first objective is to sever the cabling lines tethering the facility to the tugs. Wherever they’re taking it, we don’t want it to get there, nor do we want the battle taking place somewhere they have the advantage and possibly reinforcement armaments. But most important is this: if we disable any of those tugs while Rasogo II is still tethered to it, the structure could be ripped apart. Seeing as there are civilians on board, hopefully alive, that is not an optimal outcome.”

  Her gaze roved over the room to where Harper stood leaning against the wall with ostensibly casual interest, if not mild disdain. The taut, corded muscles running down the woman’s neck and across her shoulders, exposed by the form-fitting tank she wore, told a different story. A muscle twitched in her jaw as Morgan’s eyes landed on her.

  “As soon as the cables are gone, Harper’s team will sneak onto the facility using the cloaked shuttle. We will draw the fighters away then engage them.”

  One of the pilots, Regina Olsen, raised a hand. “What about the tugs? If they’re weaponized, they might shoot up the place or, if they’re feeling vengeful, crash themselves into it.”

  A corner of Morgan’s mouth curled up. “That’s why Mr. Naissen will be taking the lead initially when engaging the fighters. I’ll be along, but first I need to deliver a few gifts.”

  Olsen nodded, satisfied. The team had mostly given up inquiring about the many secret toys, tools and information Morgan enjoyed.

  “Once all targets have been destroyed and Harper’s team has neutralized the enemies inside Rasogo II, we’ll guard the structure until friendly tugs from Advent Materials arrive to return it to where it belongs. Advent will also be implementing additional security, so that will signify the end of the mission. Any questions?”

  They looked ner
vous and hyped on apprehension, but no one raised a hand. They were anxious to go. So was she.

  “Dismissed. We fly in five.”

  The rings of the atmosphere corridor gave way to the faint haze from the last vestiges of the atmosphere, then to the stars.

  Thanks to Romane’s binary suns, space here was never truly black. They also meant a flash of glaring light lurked around most shifts in trajectory, hence the omnipresent filters on the glass.

  A little glare did nothing to dampen the rush of adrenaline coursing through Morgan as her flight gathered in formation and sped toward Rasogo II. It wasn’t her first time back in the cockpit or in space, as they’d been training for weeks now. But this time it was real—real enemies using real weapons who would fight and die—and her body knew it. Her mind knew it.

  I know it as well, if you’re interested.

  It was a faint whisper in the recesses of her mind. Stanley’s voice grew quieter every day…and she didn’t know why or what to do about it. I wouldn’t have suggested otherwise. You’re in my brain cells, after all. This will be your first true combat mission.

  We controlled thousands of fighters in the decisive battle against the Metigens. This cannot possibly be different.

  Wait and see. But deep down, she wondered if he remained strong enough to appreciate the intensity of the experience.

  The tugs were operating at what must be maximum speed, but the fastest Class III tug was still slow, and they caught up to the entourage in minutes.

  Commander Lekkas: Listen up, squad. It’s show time. Targets are marked and assigned. Slice your designated cables, and ignore any incoming fire. Your ships can take the abuse.

  She hoped the squad members were ready. For some of them, it had been years or even decades since they’d flown in combat; others never had. Plus, knowing the adiamene hull could absorb anything directed at it was different than believing it, particularly when one sat in the snug cockpit of a tiny ship being shot at by a hulking, imposing vessel. Luckily for them the adiamene should protect them from the worst consequences of the mistakes they were guaranteed to make.