by Ryk Brown
“We’d be losing propellant capacity,” Nathan said, pointing out the obvious.
“Do you really need it?” Vladimir challenged. “Dalen said you added the extra tanks because you liked to carry extra, in case you weren’t able to pick up another job at your destination. Something about ‘always wanting to have enough gas to get away.’”
“Yeah, I guess that’s not so much an issue, now,” Nathan admitted. “It would be nice to have better long-range communications capabilities. Will the drones fit in those bays?”
“Actually, I believe we can fit two in each bay.”
“Four comm-drones would certainly be nice,” Nathan agreed. “It would give us a lot more flexibility in situations like this. I always feel guilty leaving the fleet. How long would it take?”
“A day at the most, once we get back to the Aurora.”
“We would need to get clearance from Sanctuary to use them when we’re in port, or when we’re trying to communicate with our people there.”
“Do you think that will be a problem?” Vladimir asked.
“Let me talk to them,” Jessica suggested from the doorway. “I’ve got experience negotiating with Sanctuary personnel.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Nathan retorted.
“Captain?” Corporal Vasya called over comm-sets.
“Yes?”
“Council Member Garon is here and is asking to speak with you.”
Nathan looked at Jessica. “Which one was Garon?”
Jessica shrugged. “Their nameplates were in a language I couldn’t read.”
“Corporal, please escort the council member to the galley.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re mighty pleased with yourself right about now, aren’t you?” Jessica said.
“Not yet,” Nathan replied. “After all, they could be coming to give a polite ‘no, thank you.’ After all, we did take out twelve Ahka raiders for them.”
“Uh-huh,” Jessica said as she exited. “I’ll be in your quarters.”
Nathan watched her exit, and then turned to Vladimir. “She really doesn’t have any respect for chain of command, does she.”
“She is who she is,” Vladimir replied, patting him on the shoulder as he, too, headed for the exit. “Would you really want it any other way?”
“Maybe.” Nathan rose from the booth, putting his cup into the compact dishwasher built into the galley wall, then turned to face the starboard entrance as he heard Corporal Vasya and Council Member Garon approaching.
Corporal Vasya stepped to one side of the galley’s starboard entrance, gesturing to the council member. “Right in here, ma’am.”
An elder woman appeared in the doorway, still wearing her council robes. Nathan immediately recognized her from the council chambers, not thirty minutes earlier, although she had not spoken while he was present.
“Captain Scott,” the council member greeted, nodding respectfully. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“It is my pleasure, ma’am. Please,” Nathan said, gesturing toward the dining nook. “My apologies for the cramped living spaces. We had to sacrifice quite a bit in accommodations when we armed her.”
“It is quite alright,” she replied. “We, on Casbon, are accustomed to spartan living. Although, I must admit, based on what your ship accomplished this day, it is not what I expected.”
“The Seiiki was originally a personal yacht for a Takaran warship captain. It has been through several remodels, since then, and now serves as my personal ship for various missions.”
“Then you don’t always travel aboard the Aurora?”
“Unfortunately, no. The Aurora’s range is limited, while this ship can jump repeatedly until it reaches its destination. Plus, the Aurora has other responsibilities at the moment.”
“I see.”
“How may I help you?”
“I was impressed by how you spoke your mind in our chambers.”
“I apologize if I was out of line.”
“Not at all,” the council member replied. “Your assessment was quite accurate, in fact. The problem with a government run by council is that it is often difficult to get a majority agreement. Unfortunately, the diversity of our population requires such.”
“I see.”
“To be honest, no one had heard of you, or the Aurora, until today. Mister Imburjia and Mister Orloff were kind enough to detail your accomplishments to us. Once he did so, we realized we had misjudged you and your cohorts. For that, I offer our apologies.”
“No apology is necessary,” Nathan assured her. “It’s a very big galaxy,” he added with his usual endearing smile.
“In fact, we were even prepared to let you leave without taking you up on your offer,” she continued, “had it not been for Mister Imburjia.”
“Then the council has decided to accept our offer of assistance?”
“The council is prepared to tentatively accept your gracious offer, on the condition that we can work out the details later.”
“Our offer seemed pretty straightforward to me,” Nathan told her.
“Our concern is that giving you half our fighters will leave our defenses in a weakened state, and that the Ahka will find a way to acquire other ships with which to attack us. And when they do, they will attack with intent to destroy or conquer our world, rather than simply steal from it.”
“I promise you that we would never leave you unable to defend yourselves,” Nathan insisted. “But, the day will come when you will need to do more than just maintain an operational wing of interceptors. You will need planetary defenses and some sort of ground-based response force, if you wish to be truly safe.”
Council Member Garon shook her head in dismay. “Such measures go against everything we believe in.”
“I understand and admire your commitment to peace, Council Member Garon but, unfortunately, the nature of humanity is such that the only way to ensure peace is with the threat of force.”
“Alas, the threat of force usually leads to the use of force.”
Nathan sighed. “If good people who abhor violence do not prosper, who will change the future of humanity?”
“Very well put, Captain,” the council member said.
“It is what I remind myself, every time I must fire a weapon or send my people into harm’s way. It is what you must think as you prepare to defend yourselves.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Look at it this way,” Nathan said, “once you have disabled the Ahka’s ability to attack others, the opportunity will exist to befriend them, and show them that we can all survive, and thrive, if we work together.”
“You are quite the optimist,” she replied, smiling at him.
“I wouldn’t be able to do my job, if I wasn’t.”
“How soon can you provide us with assistance?”
“It will take us at least eighteen hours to reach our next destination, at which point I can send orders back to my fleet to dispatch the appropriate personnel and equipment. It would be best if Mister Imburjia held off delivery until our people arrive, as even with a full complement of pilots, it will take at least a few days for them to become familiar with the fighters and be ready to defend your world.”
“Thank you, Captain Scott. I will speak to Mister Imburjia about this.” The council member stood again, preparing to depart. “I trust I will see you again?”
“It is unlikely, I’m afraid,” Nathan replied, also standing. “I have my own enemy to deal with.”
“Of course,” she replied. “The best of luck to you, Captain.”
“And to you, Council Member.” He turned toward the exit and called out. “Corporal.”
Corporal Vasya stepped into the room. “I’ll show you out, ma’a
m.”
As soon as the council member departed the galley, Jessica entered from the opposite side.
“Now you’re mighty pleased with yourself, right?”
“That’s why I’m the captain,” he replied, smiling as he passed her by.
* * *
Cameron stood behind the flight crew, gazing out the window at the Orochi carriers as her Reaper descended onto the landing pad of one of the decommissioned ships floating in the protected harbor off of Onaro Seykora. As soon as the Reaper’s engines began to spin down, she turned to exit. “Don’t go anywhere, gentlemen. I don’t like being away from the ship when the captain is away.”
“We’ll keep her warmed up and ready for quick-launch, sir,” the pilot replied.
Cameron made her way aft into the utility bay, opened the side hatch, and jumped down to the landing pad deck, not waiting for the boarding steps to deploy. She paused for a moment, looking around the topside of the ship. Even up close, the Orochi looked more like a seagoing vessel than a spaceship. In fact, it looked a lot like one of the old, deep-sea, research submersibles back on Earth that had always fascinated her as a child…just considerably larger.
The Orochi carrier was about twice the length of a Cobra gunship, and four times its breadth and equally thicker from its dorsal to ventral surfaces. It had a center hull, which blended smoothly into port and starboard wing-like sections that supported seven landing pads for the original Gunyoki fighters. While the pads were too small to accommodate a modern Gunyoki, they were plenty large enough for a sizable missile launcher on each pad. The entire vessel was painted blue with yellow accents, reminding her of her high school cricket team’s uniforms.
“Captain!” Deliza called as she climbed out through the open hatch on the side of the fuselage. She was followed by Abby and an older Rakuen man whom Cameron did not recognize.
“It’s not as big as I thought,” Cameron said as she headed toward them.
“It’s a bit deceiving, as nearly a third of the fuselage is underwater,” Abby told her.
“Captain Taylor, this is Danno Yasui,” Deliza introduce.
“A pleasure,” Cameron replied, bowing respectfully before shaking the man’s hand.
“Mister Yasui is an Orochi engineer.”
“Really,” Cameron replied.
“Our government chose to retain a handful of us over the decades, in case the Orochi carriers ever needed to be reactivated,” Mister Yasui explained.
“Good thinking,” Cameron agreed. “How are things looking?”
“The decommissioning process was designed to allow rapid recommissioning,” Mister Yasui began. “All of their flight systems are still intact. It will take five to six days to make their main lift and propulsion systems operational. However, it will take a bit longer to rearm them.”
“All the guns were removed when they were decommissioned, to appease the leaders of Neramese.”
“Just as well, I suppose,” Cameron said. “We’ll probably want to install more current weapons.”
“That’s what I figured,” Deliza agreed.
“Abby, do you foresee any problems equipping these ships with jump drives?”
“No, but we won’t be able to install them on the surface,” Abby replied. “The only way we can fit in the jump field generators and energy banks is to remove four of their eight propellant tanks, and they need all of them to reach orbit.”
“The original engines were not as efficient as their more modern variants,” Mister Yasui explained.
“Can we replace them?” Cameron wondered.
“It would be easier to keep them, and just install the jump drives in orbit,” Deliza said.
“How the hell did these things get to orbit with fourteen Gunyoki on deck?” Cameron wondered.
“They burned all their propellant to make orbit,” Mister Yasui explained. “Once in orbit, they were refueled before beginning their mission. Upon their return, they again had to be fueled in order to return to the surface.”
“Why didn’t they just stay in orbit?”
“That would have required the construction of a massive orbital spaceport,” Mister Yasui replied. “That would have taken decades to construct, and they already had the infrastructure in place for the orbital refueling.”
“The same system was used for their interplanetary transports,” Deliza chimed in.
“Will they be able to lift off, loaded with jump missiles?” Cameron wondered.
“That should not be a problem,” Mister Yasui assured her. “The old Gunyoki fighters were quite heavy.”
“We expect to be able to put four jump missiles on each launcher,” Deliza told Cameron. “Two on the top rail, two on the bottom. Including the launcher, that’s still a bit less weight than a Gunyoki.”
“So, twenty-eight jump missiles per ship,” Cameron calculated. “That’s a lot of firepower for a ship this size. And there’s how many Orochis?”
“We expect to be able to recommission at least ten of them in the next two weeks, and six more a few weeks later,” Mister Yasui answered.
“I thought there were twenty of them?”
“Two were lost in the war, and two require more extensive efforts to make them operational again. Water damage, and such.”
“No matter, I guess,” Cameron said. “It’s going to take us at least a month to manufacture enough jump missiles to outfit them all.”
“The first jump missile plant on Neramese will start production the day after tomorrow,” Abby stated. “They are expected to produce five jump missiles per day, after the first week of parts pre-production. And the second plant will go online a week later.”
“The Rakuen plants will be online in a few days, as well,” Deliza added. “If all goes well, we’ll have the first ten Orochis fully loaded and operational within a month.”
“I’ll be happy if we can just get two or three of them up and running in that time,” Cameron said. “Mind if I take a look inside?”
“Of course,” Mister Yasui replied. “But I warn you, Captain, it is a bit cramped.”
* * *
Nathan quietly entered the observation room overlooking Miri’s treatment suite at Doctor Symyri’s medical facility on Sanctuary. Inside, Neli was watching Kyle standing next to his mother’s medical stasis pod, talking to her. “Neli,” he whispered, not wanting to startle her.
Neli turned her head, smiling when she saw Nathan. “When did you get back?”
“About ten minutes ago,” he replied, moving in to sit next to her. “What are you doing here?”
“Kyle insists on coming and talking to her at least twice a day,” Neli explained. “I come with him for moral support. He pretends like he doesn’t need it, but I can tell he does.”
“He’s a strong kid, just like his mother,” Nathan said, gazing at his nephew in the next room.
“Did you find them?” Neli asked.
“Yeah, I found them. It wasn’t easy. By the time we caught up with them, they were nearly five hundred light years away.”
“Where the hell did they go?”
“Someplace called Casbon, in the Ilyan Gamaze.”
“Never heard of either.”
“Neither had I.”
“I take it you chewed their asses?” Neli assumed.
“No more than they deserved,” Nathan replied. “I felt a little guilty doing so, actually.”
“Let me guess, they got the fighters.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes, but they took a lot of risks doing so, and nearly got themselves killed in the process. If we hadn’t arrived when we did…”
“That’s what you do, Nathan,” Neli said with a chuckle. “Even as Connor, you had a habit of saving people. Hell, you saved me.”
<
br /> “Marcus saved you, Neli. I just agreed to hire you on.”
“Perhaps, but it wouldn’t have worked out nearly as well, had you not.”
Nathan sighed, still watching Kyle. “Where’s Melanie?”
“She’s back at the suite with Marcus. She’s really taken a shine to him.”
“To Marcus?”
“He’s actually pretty good with little kids,” Neli defended, “especially with Melanie.”
“Melanie gets along with everyone.”
“She is a sweetheart.”
“She is so much like her mother,” Nathan said, still gazing through the window. “When I look at her, I see Miri when we were kids.”
“She’s older than you, right?”
“By two years,” Nathan replied. “She was always my protector; my confidant.”
Neli was silent for a moment. “She almost died yesterday, you know.”
“I know. I spoke to Melei before I came in.”
“They were amazing,” Neli said.
“Who was amazing?”
“All three of them. Symyri, Melei, even Michi. When her heart stopped, they worked for hours to keep her alive until they could repair the damage and get it restarted.” Neli looked at Nathan. “They actually had to take her heart out of her body for over an hour, while Symyri grafted some sort of automated patches to it before putting it back into her body. There were at least ten to fifteen people in there working away. It was like watching a perfectly choreographed dance, in the middle of a gunfight.”
“God, I don’t know if I could have handled that,” Nathan admitted.
“Kyle did.”
“What?”
“He was here the entire time, sitting right where you are.”
“Why did you let him witness that?”
“I couldn’t have stopped him if I’d tried,” Neli insisted. “I kept asking if he was okay, and you know what he said every time?”
