by S. H. Jucha
When Julien didn’t reply, Edouard knew that the SADE was waiting for his explanation.
“A moral crisis” were the words that had occurred to Julien. Before he met Alex, Julien would have simply reported the unsafe operation to his Captain. A shuttle pilot was exceeding the proscribed safety limit for flights per day. It was a simple fact that would have generated a simple response. Julien had reviewed Edouard’s plea in light of Alex’s intent to save the people of Libre and weighed the risks.
It wasn’t that this was Julien’s forte, but he had one library to rely on. Whenever crew members invented new techniques within the implant games, the opposite team would often challenge the invention. Their challenge was lodged with the referee: Julien himself. In the beginning, Julien had been uncertain how to decide the issues and had sought Alex’s advice. He had listened to the discussions between Alex and the inventive crew member. What Julien had learned was that intent was critical. What had the crew member intended to do? Had they realized what would happen?
Edouard’s request was not in the same category as that of the players’ challenges. Here, there was a risk not only to the crew and shuttle, but to its over 200 passengers. Furthermore, if they lost the shuttle, hundreds to thousands of even more Librans might be left behind.
Edouard had sat waiting in the cockpit. Only the Admiral was known to pose questions to Julien that required the SADE take time to answer. He never thought that one day he would find himself asking such a question of Julien.
Julien had finally said.
Today, the Outward Bound’s liftoff was going to be different. It had started with the removal of the safety engine locks while at the orbital station, with Julien guiding Edouard and the techs through the steps. The crew knew that the Admiral had done the same thing on the Rêveur to escape the silver ships at Bellamonde, and they hoped they had the same good fortune.
The Outward Bound landed without the need to exceed normal power levels. The techs were supervising their refueling and running preflight checks. Edouard, Miko, and Pia, who had kept the crew going with nutrient and stimulant injections, were loading the passengers. Unlike previous flights, often with a single passenger to each seat, they placed children in their parents’ laps and sat young adults in the aisles and the galley. When Miko signaled all full, Pia looked at the middle-aged woman on the ramp with her two teenage sons and motioned them forward. Edouard and Miko threw Pia incredulous looks as she and her latest passengers threaded their way down the aisle, people edging out of their way. Pia walked to the refresher, opened the door, and motioned them inside. The teenagers hurried past and took seats on the deck. The woman touched Pia’s face gently as she edged past and sat between her sons, placing an arm around each of them. The image of the mother and her sons seated on the deck of the refresher, smiles on their faces, burned into Pia’s mind and was carefully saved in her implant.
Lyle and Zeke signaled all ready as they retracted the gangway ramp and locked the hatch. Lyle picked up the young boy who had been sitting in his seat, and held him in his lap for liftoff.
Edouard took the pilot’s chair for their first overburdened lift, with Miko in the copilot seat. Together they piloted the Outward Bound skyward, the engines straining to lift the overburdened shuttle. They glanced at one another as the engine power display passed 100 percent, turning from green to yellow and finally to red.
But as adrenaline-pumping as that first liftoff had been, the crew quickly fell back into their old routine. Unfortunately there was no room to nap, so the crew slept in their seats. Edouard wanted to abandon the extra daily flight they had been allowed so his crew could get some rest, but their hard-eyed stares convinced him to abandon his offer.
By day three of the deadline, neither the red lights of their controller’s power display nor the roar of the straining engines frightened the crew anymore. They became sleepwalkers, flying rotation after rotation. The passengers climbing the Outward Bound’s gangway ramp to board would exchange concerned looks at the hollowed eyes and listless motions of their Captain and his crew.
-23-
Once the Stern Licht exited the Bellamonde system, the Stern Vagabund was left to maintain the watch over the alien ships as the drones cleared atmosphere and made their way to the mother ship. With its immense diameter, it would have been logical to assume that the number of drones circling the mother ship would be able to enter through a multitude of bays, but it wasn’t so. The drones used a single point of entry and slipped through the iris-style hatch one at a time, with a distinct pause before the next fighter could enter.
Patrolling silver ships made their way from across the system to rendezvous with the mother ship. As they arrived, they joined the other fighters circling the mother ship’s massive circumference, waiting for their turn to enter.
Before they’d left Arno, Captain Azasdau and Captain Hauser had met with the Admiral, per his request. The request had seemed unusual, as the Bergfalk Captains had their instructions and could not conceive of the Admiral modifying Leader Stroheim’s orders. But the Captains discovered the Admiral didn’t wish to issue orders or directives. Instead, they were requested to carefully observe the mother ship and her drones, and ask themselves why the enemy did things.
Captain Azasdau thought it was a strange request until he found himself doing just that—wondering why. Most inefficient, Asu thought as he regarded the fighters waiting to enter the mother ship, and the odd behavior engaged his engineering training. So why would you only allow your drones to enter one at a time through a single point of entry? Asu wondered. One would think you don’t trust your minions, he thought, directing his words at the mother ship, and I think you’re going to be upset when I tell the Admiral about your strange little habit.
Asu recalled the first time he viewed the Admiral’s vid of the subterranean-like nature of the aliens. Now, as he’d watched the silver ships cluster around the mother ship, acting in their submissive fashion, he saw the truth in the concept. They behaved like a colony of burrowers he had investigated as a boy. When moving to a new location, the creatures clustered protectively around their queen, driving all intruders away.
The crew of the Stern Vagabund had passe
d the days waiting for the mother ship to gather its drones, and counting down the remaining ships. Rosette, the ship’s SADE, was able to identify subtle differences in each hull. So despite the fact that some silver ships were out of sight when they circled behind the mother ship, she could maintain the count. The significant number, according to the Admiral, was ten.
Captain Azasdau had always treated his SADE with courtesy and found it had paid off for him over the decades. Rosette was very proactive in suggesting small things that kept his ship receiving commendations for efficiency.
“Captain, should we go to active telemetry and determine the mother ship’s course to negate the delay?” the First Mate asked.
The Stern Vagabund’s officers regarded one another, considering variations on Rosette’s advice. If the active telemetry were to attract the mother ship and help persuade its direction, which way should they attract it? Méridien was their home world, but the people they were charged with servicing and protecting had been deserted by the Confederation Council. So who should be sacrificed? The officers were quite content to let their Captain decide.
Hours later, they had their answer.
The Captain had Rosette send a preliminary announcement to Libre and remained on station for several more hours to confirm the mother ship’s trajectory.
The enemy remained on course for Libre, and Rosette sent the confirmation just before the Stern Vagabund entered FTL. Without an update, Asu had no way of knowing the state of preparation of his people, House Bergfalk and the Independents. We are all in the same predicament, he thought.
* * *
The Stern Reisende exited FTL, arriving midday on day five. Captain Hauser immediately signaled Leader Stroheim. In turn, Leader Stroheim requested Z add Alex, Tomas, Renée, and the other two SADEs into a conference. He was doing his best to anticipate the Admiral’s needs.
There was silence for the moment on the comm.
* * *
Mütter had coordinated the landing of seven Daggers into her two bays not more than three hours before the Stern Reisende’s arrival. Per the Admiral’s order, Sheila sent three Daggers to the Rêveur, led by Lieutenant Hatsuto Tanaka, her flight second. She kept Robert with her.
When Tatia questioned Sheila about Tanaka’s assignment, her Squadron Leader responded, “Robert has done a great job training the recruits. From now on, that’s his job. And Tanaka is good, probably as good as Jase, and somewhere along the way, he’s gotten his ego under control.”
“Well, it’s your decision, Commander,” Tatia replied.
“Thank you, Commander,” Sheila replied before Tatia’s words sank in. “I’m sorry, Commander, what did you call me?”
“Admiral’s orders, Commander, and at this rate you may not have to wait the year out to reach that top position you joked about when you made Squadron Leader.”
Tatia left a stunned Commander Reynard in her wake and checked in for deployment orders with Andrea.
Alex linked Mickey, who was just returning to the Money Maker from the Unser Menschen.
Both Alex and Andrea read between the lines of Tatia’s message. Robert wasn’t going to be an active pilot.
Andrea, standing next to Alex, glanced at him. She could sense the pain Tatia’s statement caused her. When Alex said nothing, Andrea knew it was her call.
Tatia closed her comm and went to meet Alain at the waiting shuttle.
Alain wasn’t pleased about returning to the Rêveur and took his time holding Tatia in a close hug. “With this ship’s limited velocity, you must urge the Captain to launch as soon as the Admiral permits,” Alain said.
“We have orders to leave now. As soon as your shuttle is off, Alain, these bay doors will close and we’re gone,” Tatia replied.
“That’s good. Be safe, my heart,” Alain replied. “If this craft is not fast enough to beat the silver ships to the exit point, I expect you and Mickey to get out and push. Put your oversized selves to some good use.>
Tatia laughed at his joke, but inside, her guts were knotted. She kissed him good-bye. Alain, long since having lost his reticence for public displays, returned it until her toes warmed. Alain waved to her from the shuttle’s gangway ramp, and Tatia waved back. The moment the shuttle hatch was sealed, she marched for the bay’s airlock and signaled the Captain
.
Within a half-hour, the Geld Hersteller—or if you asked Mickey, the Money Maker—turned onto a course to employ Libre’s gravity to help it accelerate, chasing her sister ship, the Lange Strecken, to the exit point.
* * *
Tomas had met with Terese and asked her to stay aboard the Freedom with him.
“Your offer is most appreciated, Tomas,” Terese had replied. “I would like nothing better if we were at peace. But until our people are safe and need fight no longer, my place is aboard the Rêveur.”
“You are a woman of great honor,” Tomas had said. “There is much I like about you.”
“And I care for you, Tomas,” Terese had said, touching his cheek.
“Please inform the Admiral that I would consider it a personal favor if he would keep you safe.”
She had laughed at that. “You should know by now, Tomas, that few know how to tell the Admiral anything, but that is his strength. He isn’t burdened by the strictures that our society gave us. So I will tell him that you send your regards.” She had kissed him warmly and made her way to the shuttle bay.
Terese had joined Renée, Étienne, and the other Rêveur crew members boarding the aging Libre Station passenger shuttle, which the Rêveur would keep. It’s why Alex had only ordered three Daggers, housing two in the starboard bay and one in the port bay.
Their shuttle landed in the Rêveur’s port bay, sliding forward to make room for the Dagger’s exit. As Terese walked down the gangway ramp, Renée took her hand in sympathy. It had hurt Terese to leave Tomas, but she didn’t regret her decision. She knew where she had to be.
* * *
On the morning of day six, Captain Cordova ordered the crew and passengers, who had been scavenging the station for supplies and useful material throughout the night, back to the Freedom. Some of the last to board from the station were fourteen runners, each child carrying a potted plant retrieved from the Station Manager’s offices to decorate their cabins.
