Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War

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Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War Page 27

by Mason Elliott


  Naero clapped and cheered until her hands were sore and her voice grew hoarse and cracked.

  She shot to her feet when her people came through, and programmed their new ranks in on a special pad given to her for that exact purpose. Then she embraced them, and thanked and honored them for their valor–for their comradery, service, and sacrifice.

  Four of them blazed especially bright in her heart.

  “Tyber Maeris, hereby promoted to the rank of Tek Leftenant Commander.”

  Naero felt like a cry-baby sometimes, when it came to her closest mates. She struggled not to let any tears show.

  Ty grinned. They hugged each other for a long moment.

  “Doctor Zhentisa Maeris, hereby promoted to the rank of Medical Service Commander.”

  Naero could not help tearing up a little when they embraced.

  “You work so hard, Z. All of your research, your work with Intel, our wounded. You really deserve this. Congratulations, my dearest sister.”

  Zhen wept openly and almost sobbed. “I love you so much, N. And did you see my Ty? He looks so handsome. I’m so proud of all of us.”

  Then from her bridge crew.

  “Enel Maeris, hereby promoted to the rank of 2nd Leftenant, strike fleet flagship pilot and helmsman.”

  Naero embraced yet another comrade who had become a good friend, like so many.

  “Great work, Enel. I am always proud and honored to have you at my helm. Fight well, abani.”

  Enel pulled away, grinned, and winked at her. “Thank you, sir. N, I’m just glad I haven’t given you any further reasons to shoot me in the goddam head!”

  They shared a good laugh together and embraced once more.

  Enel had also been wounded three times on their bridge.

  Each time he came back to her within a week.

  “Surina Marshall, hereby promoted to the rank of Leftenant Commander, Flagship Communications Specialist.”

  Naero had come to trust and rely on Surina and her knowledge and expertise. Rina was also an excellent pilot and leader in her own right, who read people well and always had Naero’s back.

  “Surina, you’re going to make a formidable captain yourself, one day.”

  They hugged each other. “I’m honored to serve at your discretion, my captain. N, you are the finest, bravest leader–and the most astonishing battle tactician–that I have ever had the pleasure to witness in action. You need to know, just how much your people love you, respect you, and are willing to follow you into combat.”

  “Thanks, Rina. Coming from a go-getter like you, that means more to me than I can ever put into words. I hope I never let you down.”

  For the first time ever since they had known one another, Surina’s eyes reddened and swelled up with tears.

  Rina smiled and shook her head slightly. “Not possible, sir.”

  Once the ceremony ended, and they were all back on board their various ships and off duty, Naero ordered rousing parties to commence for all of her people throughout Six, in honor of all of those who had earned promotions.

  And anyone who wanted to celebrate that.

  *

  A day later, Naero slipped over to the heavy cruiser, The Minstrel as general tek Pharrah Barrett. She used nanofilm, programmable contacts to change her violet eyes to blue, and set her nanowig to a short black bob, curled in on the sides and edges. She saw a new make-up style with painted eyes in some vids on one of the webnets, that seemed popular, and gave them a whirl.

  She made Pharrah-Naero Barrett somewhat shy, and introverted. Quiet and aloof–someone who read a lot on her pad, stayed in her quarters, and kept to herself. She didn’t attract a lot of attention.

  Which made some others take note of her.

  Pharrah quietly performed her assigned duties. She sulked when she had to go to PT and combat training in the mornings. Naero even made her alias rather clumsy and awkward, and not very good at fighting.

  The other teks attempted to take her under their wing and did their best to try to help her.

  A male tek from another deck–ten or twelve years older than her, in fact–took a shine to her alias and pressured her to go out with him.

  The guy just wouldn’t let up. He even started to get abrasive about it–as if he could force her to spend time with him.

  Several of the other female teks banded together and finally stepped in. They asked Pharrah-Naero, in public, if she was at all interested in the guy or not–right in front of him.

  Pharrah blushed blood-red and quietly squeaked, “No,” with her head down.

  Her mates strongly proceeded to advise the pushy, older guy to hunt elsewhere–if he was lonely.

  Taking their not-so-subtle hint as the threat it was–the pushy jerk stopped coming around. The guy was clearly too old for Pharrah-Naero any way–over thirty. Very creepy.

  Her friends took her out with them, trying to get her to loosen up a bit and come out of her shell.

  Tawny Maeris, a tall brunette tek with brown eyes tried to counsel her.

  “Honey, you need to understand. That pouty, helpless-little-kitten routine you put out is like a magnet to every predator and control freak out there—male or female. People who like to bully or dominate someone quieter and weaker than them will just home in on you like a seeker missile.”

  Pharrah-Naero pursed her lips together in angry frustration, with a hint of humiliation.

  “I’m not helpless, and I’m of age. I do my work. I do my duty and everything expected of me. I know what I like and what I don’t like. I don’t…care for a lot of people. And usually, I just want to be left alone. Why is that so hard for some people to accept?”

  Tawny looked at her friend, tek Yasha Keller, a short curvy blond with amber eyes.

  Both of them rolled their eyes at the young newb.

  “Pharrah, you don’t want to hear this, but Tawny’s right. You need to cowgirl up a little–if nothing else–to protect yourself. Haisha, kid–have you even slept with someone yet? Do you even understand what these type of people want from you?”

  Pharrah-Naero blushed again, and looked down.

  Yasha sighed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “I’m not a baby. I know what sex is…even if I haven’t done it yet. I’ve seen some vids; like anyone, I was curious. And honestly, it looks…” She made a face. “…really gross.”

  Tawny and Yasha shook their heads and waved their hands adamantly.

  “You can’t go by porn. All porn is stupid fantasy. That’s never real.”

  “Sweetie, when you are ready for it, love and sex can be really great–especially with someone you really care about, and who cares about you. Spectacular even.”

  Pharrah-Naero shook her hands before herself in frustration. “But I’m not looking for sex. I–I’m not looking for anything right now. Honestly, guys. I’m happy alone. I just want to be by myself.”

  Tawny put her hand on her arm. “Pharrah, that’s perfectly fine. Forget sex. You want to be by yourself? Be by yourself. But Yasha and I are just trying to warn you about how some other people might see you. Be a little stronger and more forceful. Believe in yourself. Show a little Spacer pride and confidence.”

  “T is right, honey. You got victim written all over you. Some people see that, and its like puttin’ blood in the water to attract sharks. There are always jerks who want someone weaker than them to push around. And you got a big holographic flashing blurt board hanging over you, that says:

  Quiet and meek. Ready to be bullied and taken advantage of.

  “By the Powers, Pharrah–we’re at war,” Tawny said. “You need to toughen up a little. Take a look at our fleet captain, Captain Maeris. Now that’s tough!”

  “Yeah,” Yasha added, “she’s smaller than you, and she’s tigress, a fighter if there ever was one. So one day, this huge, loudmouth mook comes over from one of the other fleets, shootin’ his yap off. Saying how her parents where a bunch of phonies–the fight circuit was rigged and all f
ake–bragging how he was tougher than her and her whole family put together.”

  “Well…he was three times her size,” Tawny added.

  Pharrah-Naero blinked and let her mouth fall open a little, lifting her fingers to her teeth. “Haisha…what did she do?”

  Tawny’s eyes glistened. “You shoulda seen it, kid. I’ll tell you exactly what she did. She challenged that gigantic mook to a sparring match, right then and there, for the honor of her parents, her Clan, and herself.”

  Yasha jumped in. “She took that mook down like a falling rock. Kicks flashing, her spinning and whirling around–just like her mom, The Invincible Cyclone. Same exact fighting style. We all saw it happen.

  “It was a thing of beauty. But the point is, she stood up for herself, and didn’t take a lot of crap. You need to back yourself up a little more…kinda like that.”

  Pharrah-Naero rubbed her arms “I…I don’t know, guys. I’m not much of a fighter.”

  “Yeah,” Tawny said. “Yeah, we’ve noticed that too.”

  Yasha leaned in slightly. “Along with everyone else. That’s our point. You’re very cute, honey. If you didn’t paint your eyes like some punk teen…”

  “Yasha’s right. That look’s just too young for people of age…”

  “…you could even be pretty–when the time comes, and you’re ready for some real romance.”

  Tawny crossed her arms in front of herself. “Until then, you need to grow up and look out for yourself a little more.”

  “Stick with us,” Tawny said. “We can help you work a few things out, and see what your options are. We’ve seen newbs like you come along and get taken advantage of, time and time again.”

  “And it is too painful to watch.”

  “There are some pretty tough lessons to learn out there in the adult world–especially during wartime. A little more backbone would do you some good, kiddo.”

  Pharrah-Naero smiled. “Thanks, guys. I hear what you’re saying. I’ll try to do better. I really appreciate you two looking out for me and trying to help me out.”

  “Hey, that’s what your mates are for.”

  “Yeah, we watch each others’ backs and take care of one another.”

  “And we also buy each other drinks and chow,” Tawny told her. “Like you’re going to buy us a round, right now, to celebrate growing a pair.”

  “But…I don’t drink.”

  Her new friends grinned at her and spoke in unison.

  “Start.”

  40

  Like Naero, Tarim lost half of his blue forces in their latest sim.

  But he succeeded in destroying her last big, and gained the upper hand.

  “I think…” he said cautiously. “I think I have you.”

  Naero grinned. “Not yet you don’t. Evasive retreat in Foxtrot-Zulu-4.”

  “Cut off remaining blue elements in Echo-Victor-3 envelopment patterns.”

  She lost three cruisers, seven destroyers, and two carriers.

  “Surrender,” Tarim said.

  Naero grinned. “Never. My crews fight to the last.”

  They battled back and forth.

  In the end, Tarim had nine red ships left. Two carriers, one battleship, three cruisers, two frigates, and two gunships.

  “Congratulations, Tarim. You’ve won again. I think you’re really getting the hang of this.”

  Tarim laughed.

  “I know you’re only letting me win, N–still trying to build up my confidence. I’m almost there–where I want to be. You don’t have to keep taking it easy on me, anymore. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t. Punish me when I make stupid mistakes. Make our matches more challenging. It doesn’t matter if I win or lose–as long as I keep learning.”

  Naero nodded. “Very well. I can do that.”

  “I know you can. You’re the best, N. One of the best at least. Everyone says so.”

  “Shall we have another go, then, Tarim? Or are you tired, yet?”

  “One more. Really come at me this time.”

  She smiled slyly. “If you insist–be careful what you ask for, my friend.”

  Naero overwhelmed him in precisely thirty-seven seconds.

  *

  The fleets from the other Gigacorps still massed on the other Corps borders near the Annexation War, keeping close watch, poised to protect the rights to their own territory, and to make sure that the regular, Spacer Naval forces still kept their distance, and did not interfere directly in the war’s final outcome.

  As they themselves had been clearly exposed to be doing, illegally, all along.

  Yet the systems surrounding the final Capital Class Homeworld of Najindo-9 were now much closer together, and did not need as many fleets to defend them.

  Triax had purchased plenty of time to layer its final defenses in dense spheres and waves of robot death ships, remotely piloted killer drones, cloaked and uncloaked smartmines–as well as its remaining, formidable, mass of conventional fleets.

  All of the zealots who were still defiant and insane to the last.

  Everyone understood that these Triaxian fanatics were never going to surrender.

  The Alliance made its plans for the next phase of the campaign. What everyone hoped would be the final phase.

  Every Alliance warship, every vessel and fighter was checked over, refitted, and upgraded with the latest tek.

  Crew and replacements went through further training and preparation.

  Leaves were planned in rotations, for as long as they could be sustained. Every member of the Alliance strove to ready themselves for the final push.

  The initial engagements had already started.

  Then out of the black, Chaela came to Naero in private.

  “Hey, Chae. Happy to see you, abani.”

  “N, I want you to marry me and Remy. Today, if possible.”

  Naero raised her eyebrows.

  “I’d be honored, Chae. May I ask–what’s the sudden rush?

  Chaela shrugged, her long blond braid swung slightly as she did so down her broad, athletic back. Her large blue eyes softened.

  “So many have died, N. Any of us could buy it, each day. Any day. Saemar and I are out in the mix with our fighter wings, just like everyone else. We know what can happen. What does happen. I just…I want to mean something to someone before it does. If and when it does.”

  Naero took Chae’s hands in hers. “Whatever happens to all of us, we will always mean something to each other. We bleed and die and fight together for something better. That makes all of us more than mates. It makes us family; but you and I reached that point long ago, my sister.”

  Chae smiled and hugged her.

  “I already know all that, N. It’s Remy. I’m just crazy about my guy, that’s all. And he feels the same double for me, the poor sap. We just, you know, want everything to be straight between us…just in case. You know.”

  Naero nodded and smiled sadly. “Yeah. Sure thing, Chae. You two just let me know when and where. It doesn’t have to take long at all.”

  Spacer weddings could be as elaborate as the couple could wish, but the standard ceremony was usually relatively simple and short, normally performed by a starship captain or sometimes a Clan elder.

  Wartime forced Naero to perform the rite on many occasions in her role as captain. Often they were done in haste.

  Many on the eve before a big important battle.

  She never refused a request. Sometimes it was the last joy two people had in this life, before one or both of them went on to the next journey. And Naero would not deny anyone that.

  Anyone who faced death each day, understood the power and value of love.

  Everyone deserved whatever time they had, to be the people they wanted to be, with the people they wanted to be with.

  The most people she ever married at one time were forty-three couples, on a flight deck on the fleet carrier, The Bulldog. Most of the couples were male-female, a few male-male, or female-female. That did not matter. People love
d who they loved.

  There might not be time later, when all faced death on a second-by-second basis throughout the course of the war.

  Time and love became incredibly precious.

  The call came up, and Naero’s Strike Fleet raced forward to enter the mix.

  Their new mission gave them little time.

  Naero performed the ceremony over the comlink, while Chae prepped her Ghost Dragon F59F to lead her fighter wing out into the black.

  Remy stood ready at his gunnery turret, a secondary battery on board The Hippolyta. That was his battle station, when he wasn’t crunching numbers for fleet accounting and payroll.

  “Chaela Maeris of Clan Maeris, and Remy La Fontaine Valmont, of Clan Valmont. As your captain in charge of this ceremony, it is my honor and privilege to preside over your union.”

  Naero had to check her updating scans for a moment, and pweak the fleet’s attack vectors and formations.

  “Marriage is a sacred commitment of honor and respect that should not be entered into or taken lightly. Marriage takes two people devoted to one another, and joins and binds them into a single partnership of love and support, so that they may face all of the challenges of life together, and build a future of respect and mutual agreement and affection.

  “Together, they are stronger that they were on their own. They compliment each other, building upon their strengths, and shoring up one another’s weaknesses. They lay the foundation for a secure life and family, and the continuing future of our people. This is a foundation built on love, trust, respect, and honor. The two of you honor us all today, and we in turn honor both of you.”

  Chae broke in. “Sorry, N. Gonna have to speed it up. A few minutes more and I gotta launch.”

  “Very well, then. Let me be brief. Chaela Maeris and Remy La Fontaine Valmont. Do the both of you agree to be married to one another?

  If this is so, please say, ‘I do.’”

  “I do.”

  “I do.”

  Do you agree to enter into this partnership, bound by love, honor, respect, and trust? To forsake all others and to assist, support, and serve each other, for as long as you both shall live? If this is so, then together, please say, ‘We do.’”

 

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