by Mark Wandrey
“Luckily for us, we won’t be going anywhere that people can find us,” Minu replied as she made a note on her tablet and put it away. “How long to get there, Lilith?”
“The destination is eight hundred, ninety-three light-years. Travel time is twenty-two days.”
“Let’s cut that down with the tactical drive.” There was no immediate reply. “Lilith?”
“I heard you. It took me a minute to make the calculation. Using the drive to advantage can cut the time down to one week.”
“That’s a lot better. Let me know when we’re ready to make the first tactical jump.”
In her miniature CIC, Lilith stared at the blank walls and shivered a little. Behind her floated a three-dimensional view of the section of the galaxy they were currently in. Bright yellow lines tracked their course, now dotted with bright green circles where they would utilize the tactical drive. Despite her best efforts, the thought of using the drive was almost inconceivable. And she had absolutely no idea why.
* * * * *
Chapter 8
April 15th, 534 AE
Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass, Bellatrix
The knock on the door came at exactly the time he expected it to.
“Come!” Jacob, First Among the Chosen ordered, and Gregg Larson stepped in. His tall frame came to a smooth attention as Jacob nodded and gestured to a chair. “Glad you could make it.”
“No problem, First,” Gregg replied and took the chair. Jacob took note of the healing patches on the other man’s face and the bulge under his uniform’s shoulder, evidence of the incident he’d just been reading about.
“You’re healing well?”
“Yes, thank you. Our medics say I’m fit for duty again.”
“Glad to hear it. I’m sorry that relief mission on Occult was such a mess. Of course, they didn’t mention anything about a brewing rebellion when they signed the contract.”
Gregg nodded. “The Veelox are not known for being forthcoming.”
“Insectoid species are not the same when it comes to psychology.”
The First offered refreshments, and his assistant brought them tea and some light sweets. Once they’d both helped themselves, Jacob said, “I didn’t just call you to see how you are healing.”
“That, I guessed,” Gregg said and set his tea down. He was a coffee drinker by nature; it came from growing up in the Boglands where most of the coffee in Bellatrix grew.
“I also wanted to congratulate you on your child’s birth. A boy, right?”
“Yes, thank you, sir.”
“Your wife, Faye, isn’t it? She’s well?”
“Fine, sir. We named him Alphonse, after Faye’s father who passed away last year.”
“I’m sure he would have been honored.” Gregg nodded, and Jacob moved onto business. “What is the readiness situation of the Rangers?”
Gregg lifted an eyebrow before replying. “Forts Alma and Breckenridge are operational and fully staffed. Fort Stuart is about ninety percent complete and partially staffed, and Fort Broadmoore is only about ten percent complete. With Fort Jovich that makes nearly four completed defensive forts.”
“I know all that. I’m most interested in troop strength.”
Gregg nodded; he’d been afraid of that. “We have six full divisions combat ready. With the structure Minu devised of three battalions per division, that’s about sixteen thousand soldiers. Fifth Division, Alpha Battalion is in the final stages of training, but after the losses on Occult and standard attrition through retirement and voluntary termination of service, we’re planning to absorb those men into the other units in First Division. Trials for another class of recruits are scheduled for Julast.
“Currently, Second Division Bravo and Kappa Battalions are on Occult until that contract is complete. Third Division, Kappa Battalion is serving on Serengeti and Fourth Division, Delta Battalion is afield with the Traaga on the dispute with the Vampires.”
Jacob made a face at the latter. The agreement with the Traaga was one of the first they’d signed and the worst. Breaking the contract had proven difficult and completing it nearly impossible.
They had been contracted to provide security on the backwater world of Coorson, but once the slimy starfish-like beings realized what good fighters the humans were, they’d found ways to use them to get even for past transgressions. Of late, that included picking fights with the Vampires. Jacob had been aware of the actions of the Rangers, but he’d wanted to hear it from their commander.
“I have something for you that’s long overdue.” Jacob came around the desk, and Gregg stood as he approached. Jacob held out a little black box that Gregg took with surprise. Inside were two red stars, not black like the ones he currently wore. “I’m sorry it was so long in coming.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Gregg stammered.
“I’d really like it if you would tell me where Minu went in that ship that her daughter so dutifully guards.”
Gregg’s face fell immediately. Was the promotion a bribe?
“She didn’t tell me,” he said flatly. The two stars suddenly felt heavy in his hands. He wanted them more than anything, but not at the cost of betraying his best friend in the world. And besides, he really didn’t know where they were. “She said it was personal, and I took her word for it.”
Jacob stared into his eyes for a long moment before nodding. “I really didn’t expect you to tell me, even if you did know. That woman might be the most annoying person on this world, but she inspires loyalty from her friends like I’ve never seen before.”
“She earns it,” Gregg corrected.
Jacob nodded absently as he returned to his side of the desk. “I’m sorry there wasn’t time for a formal party and reception with the rest of the council. We’ll schedule something shortly when we make it official that the Rangers are the sixth branch of the Chosen.”
“I’m sure Minu will want to participate.”
“She’s earned at least that much. We are rushed because we have another job for the Rangers.”
Gregg sat back down and took out his tablet to take notes.
“We’ve decided to grant a contract to the Akala.”
“I thought the council ruled that out? The little hedgehogs are nothing but trouble.”
“They do tend to get themselves into more fights than a drunken kloth rancher, but they also have a lot of powerful friends. The broker who arranges our off-world power purchases made it very clear that if we don’t offer our soldiers to the Akala, our shipments of EPC might run into unforeseen delays.”
“Those bastards!” Gregg snarled.
“Indeed,” said Jacob. “The science branch has made alternative power generation a priority for more than a decade, but with the deteriorating environmental conditions and the civilian industrial market growing hungrier every year, we can’t make any headway. The planetary leadership is in a panic over the suggestion of power delivery reductions.”
Gregg rolled his eyes. Such things were light-years beyond his understanding or concern.
Jacob continued: “The Akala presented a series of three contracts, and the council accepted the least provocative of the three. They’re going to push their claim on a junkpile called Planet K.”
“Been there once, a long time ago. Quick snatch and grab for the Tog.” Gregg scratched his chin, recalling the territory. “Damn thing is like a never-ending consumer mall. I had the impression of endless piles of toaster ovens and juice machines.”
“That’s the place. Akala claim there are several items there that can’t be found anywhere else. They’ve been squabbling over it with the Leesa for years.”
“Leesa are piss-ant reptilian Rasa wannabes. They don’t rate ten percent of the Akala’s power. Why didn’t they stomp them years ago?”
“The Akala claim the Leesa are well dug in and control the Portal Spire. They want us to drive them off with minimal disruption.”
“We’ve worked for the Leesa before. Th
ey won’t like this.”
Jacob spread his hands and sighed before rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We’re trying to be as even handed as we can with the Rangers’ services, but we keep running into this problem.”
Gregg wanted to remind Jacob that Minu had warned them about the possibility of this situation. You can’t offer mercenary services without playing favorites. Jacob had tried to be neutral, but it was a losing battle.
By not taking jobs from the big senior players like the Akala, they’d angered that bloc and started to get threats from them.
And by working for the more powerful species, they were bound to piss off the minor species such as the Leesa and a dozen others who owned the Rangers’ meat and potatoes contracts, offering lucrative and often easy-to-perform garrison or defensive jobs.
Word of the Rangers’ formidable arms and tactics spread quickly. Often, the Rangers’ presence was enough to ensure no one messed with their charges.
“What size contingent are they asking for?”
Jacob licked his lips and consulted his desk computer. “An entire division.”
“Sir, that’s going to really put a strain on us. We have four battalions off-world, and the better part of another battalion down from attrition. With one battalion minimum per fort for garrison, that’s another division, leaving only seven battalions un-deployed. Sending out a full division only leaves us with three battalions in reserve. We’ll be pretty damn thin should anything go wrong here.”
“We know better than to run an open-ended contract this time. We’ll only have you there for four months, maximum. By that time your replacements should be up, giving you two more battalions, right?”
“If everything goes perfectly, yes.”
“Good, then we’re on the same page.”
Gregg ground his teeth and looked down, opening his right first and noticing for the first time that the two sets of stars had been digging into his skin. The red points glistened with his blood, giving them a surreal effect in the office’s lights. And now he would have to go off across the galaxy for months, leaving his infant son behind. “I’d like to go on record as a member of the council as being against this contract.”
Jacob nodded then shrugged. “Unfortunately, we completed that order of business before you were elected to the council. However, I will note your concerns. Is there anything else?”
“No sir. What is the starting date of the operation?”
* * * * *
Chapter 9
April 17th, 534 AE (subjective)
Deep Space, Galactic Frontier
Pip shook his head and tapped on his tablet. On the table between him and Minu were the remains of the two dragonfly-bots. “I’m not saying it’s difficult; I’m saying it’s fucking impossible.”
“If it’s fucking impossible as you so quaintly put it, how did the damn Squeen manage it?”
“I’d give another chunk of my brain to know.”
Minu grumbled and took a sip of her tea before continuing. “Okay, so let’s go over it again.” Pip shrugged. “The Squeen somehow overrode the security protocol of a bot designed not to be overrode, overwrote the bots’ bios, gave them new commands, and made them immune to the PUFF in less than one second.”
“Remotely instead of through direct contact,” Pip added, “which is against the design of the bot.”
“Great, so we’re in agreement on that. How did they do that?”
“It’s impossible.”
“Graaar!” Minu growled and pounded the table. Unfortunately, she used her left hand because her right was holding the tea cup. She put the cup down and massaged her bruised hand. “Pretend it isn’t impossible.”
“I can’t.”
“Then how could it not be impossible?”
“The only way I could even conceive of that scenario is if the damned Squeen designed the bots in the first place. That or they have the index for FTL communications with all the other chips out there.”
He shook his head and tapped on his tablet. When he looked up, Minu was staring at him, her mouth open.
“What?”
“Pip, you’re a damn genius!” She jumped up, leaned over the table and kissed him on the lips, then ran out the door.
“I know,” he said, somewhat stunned. Then he cocked his head in confusion. “Why?” But she was already out the door.
* * *
Two decks down, the door to the mini-CIC slid open at her approach.
“Hello, Mother.” Lilith turned gracefully, surrounded by the depths of space around them. Stars slid by in lengthened streaks of light, red in front of them, white to the sides, and blue behind. It was difficult to believe they were traveling five thousand times the speed of light.
“Lilith, I have a question. You said the Squeen are listed as the Passcal in the old records of The People.”
“That is correct.”
“What do the records say the Squeen did in the Concordia?”
Lilith’s eyes became slightly vacant as she used her implants to study computer data from the ship’s network.
“The Passcal are technological masters of optronics and ships’ systems. Passcal specialists helped design many of the basic systems on this vessel. They are ingenious and creative when dealing with technological issues. In particular, they are noted for their prowess in robotics, having designed both the dragonfly-bot and the cockroach-bot, as you call them.”
Minu clapped and laughed, making her daughter look at her curiously. “Excellent, that answers at least one question.”
“You might want to know I’ve been studying the scans of the stealth frigate.”
“What have you found out?”
“The ship is not in ideal condition. It was leaking neutron radiation from an improperly fixed backup reactor, and its gravitic lens drive was operating twenty percent below optimal.”
“What does that suggest?”
“That the vessel was being held together via improvised repairs.”
“Would a quantity of korovite aid in repairing the gravitic lens drive?”
“Without a doubt, but korovite, in unfinished form, is almost impossible to find in the current empire.”
“Except on Atlantis.” Minu told her. “That was what the Squeen were there for.” She told her daughter how much korovite they’d seen being prepared.
“That is enough of the element to repair many dozens of drives.”
“What about huge ships like the ones the T’Chillen employ?”
“Even that big. Korovite is a catalyst for channeling gravitic energy. Even a massive drive doesn’t require a large amount. The quantities are not proportionate with the size of the drive.”
“Then why would their drive be failing? Is our drive going to wear out soon?”
“Highly unlikely. Many thousands of years of use would be required for a drive to deteriorate to the level of the one on the stealth frigate. It is the reason raw korovite is rare, it is not a repair component. It is used in substantial quantities in the construction of ships. Most of the time, a vessel has long outlived its useful life before the korovite wears out.”
Minu nodded and smiled. She’d learned a lot about the Squeen today. A lot about why they seemed to haunt junkpiles, and how they could move around so effectively without notice. More importantly, she thought she knew where they lived now.
As she floated, she noted their course through space, plotted with a glowing blue line on a small secondary screen. She squinted at the display, her mind recreating the map she’d first seen Lilith display. “That’s not the same location you showed me earlier for the tactical jump.”
“You are mistaken.”
“No, I’m not.” She craned her neck to look at Lilith who was poised like a fish swimming through the ocean, her hands gesturing inside fields of flashing script. “The star patterns around the jump location were distinctive.”
She was familiar with the ship’s systems, and they responded to her. She reached out
and created her own script control, what she called a command box. Manipulating the icons created a mirrored image of the galaxy map with its blue course. This one was several parsecs off from the one Lilith displayed. “This is where you said we would jump before.”
“There are spatial distortions in the region of the first choice,” Lilith said without looking at her mother. “I neglected to mention them. It is some sort of gravity flux from an ancient neutron star. I had to adjust the plans.”
“I see.”
“Good.”
“What I don’t understand is why you are lying to me.”
Lilith’s head jerked slightly, but she wouldn’t look at Minu. “If the tactical drive was at the mercy of gravity distortions, it would be useless inside a star system. You explained pretty succinctly that the drive would be used to deploy warships deep into a star system, penetrating any defenses in the out-system and allowing the ships to attack from behind enemy lines.”
Lilith continued what she was doing without comment.
“Are you going to look at me?”
“There is no reason.”
“Then explain this lie.”
“I cannot.”
“Lilith, I am your mother. Talk to me!” When the girl didn’t respond, Minu pushed off an invisible force field and floated over to her daughter. There were tears floating in Lilith’s eyes, and she had a pained look on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m scared!” Lilith cried out, the displays around her snapping off and her body curling into a ball. Minu moved closer and put her arms around her. At first, Lilith stiffened, but then she slowly unfolded into her mother’s arms.
It was a new experience for Minu, and she felt more afraid than parental. This young woman had shown a complete lack of remorse in killing before, and now she’d completely broken down at the idea of a glorified trip through a Portal. Or was there more to it? Then it hit Minu. Lilith had never been through a Portal before!
Lilith cried on her mother’s shoulder for several minutes, using the conveniently absorbent Chosen uniform to sop up the tears that wouldn’t fall. Finally, her sobs began to diminish.
