The Dark Defiance

by A. G. Claymore

  The Dactarii would have to make an example of the Humans, or face large-scale uprisings.

  That future engagements would happen was never in doubt, but the debate centered on where those engagements should take place. Many cited the dangers of fighting far from home, the vulnerable supply chain that would be needed to sustain forces. Better to fight at home where replacements and supplies were close to hand.

  The more aggressive thinkers countered that fighting near home kept Humanity on its collective heels, always reacting to the enemy. Such a strategy would eventually end in defeat. Far better to take the fight to the enemy. They had fractures in their society that could be exploited. Carve worlds out of the Republic, give them the freedom that they have craved for so long and ask, in return, for supplies and open trade.

  “The ‘Hawks’ won the debate four months ago, and the timing couldn’t be better. The Dactarii have weakened their internal security units to scrape this latest force together.” Towers set his glass down. “When their ‘shake and bake’ invasion force on Mars didn’t pan out, they got desperate; left nothing but a token force to hold their planets down and brought the rest here.”

  “You’ve already cracked some captured data?” Harry snorted. “That was fast.”

  “We’ve got good people.” Towers angled his chin towards his old friend. “We could use a few more?”

  “No thanks, John. I’ve got too much Navy whitewash on my ass already.”

  “Thought you’d say that,” Towers said quietly. “You know, after all the bullshit they heaped in your lap, that senator got caught two months ago with a big pile of nose-candy in his hotel room.”

  “I wish I could say it makes me feel better, John, but I still had to write to three sets of parents back home. All because those two ‘aides’ were really a couple of twitchy private security operators. Those kids didn’t have to die.”

  “Well like it or not, Harry, you’re an officer in the auxiliary now. Soon as you deliver your cargo to Red Flag, you’ll be taking on water and fuel. Anything that can carry cargo and keep up with the fleet is now part of the Merchant Marine.”

  “Great, the worst of both worlds,” Harry groused. “I’m back under orders and I get to go to war without a warship. I suppose you need me along if you want our new friends to cooperate.”

  “Will they come with us?”

  “I don’t think you could stop them and, frankly, I don’t like the idea of leaving them hanging around here with idle hands. They have a habit of knocking planets back into the Stone Age.”

  “Good, we could sure use them.” Towers looked Harry in the eyes. “Would you really pass up the chance to come along with us?”

  Harry shook his head. “No. I suppose I wouldn’t.” He gazed out the window at his own ship, floating next to the Midgaard fleet. “But I will need some replacements. We lost Max D’Autrive, Hal Samuel and Doc Willsen to a boarding party.”

  “Willsen? The same Doc Willsen who served on my bridge when we took the Ares to Mars?”

  “The same. He married one of your engineering officers, Keira. We also lost Jim Anders.”

  “Jim… I gave you a week’s leave to be his best man, didn’t I?” Towers collected the glasses and walked over to the sideboard. “One more round, I think.” He brought a generous shot over to Harry. “To absent friends…”

  “Absent friends…”

  Khulmet, Khola

  Level sixty-eight

  “Very mature, morons!” Kale belched as they stepped out of the restaurant. Tommy and Gelna were still breaking out into fits of laughter every time they caught each other’s eye. “For all you know, they may really be serving us dead people. Ever think of that?”

  “If they do, I’d rather not find out,” Gelna snorted. “This place makes a damn fine carumen and I’d hate to find a reason to stop coming.”

  After a moment’s head-scratching, they found their bearings and set off down the sidewalk.

  “So how much did you put aside?” Kale dug a morsel from between his teeth with a fingernail.

  “For the three of us, close to ten years’ salary.” Tommy stopped at a corner, frowned, then turned right. “We should use some to buy a decent house up in the five hundreds. Something with enough room so we don’t end up killing each other.” Co-habitation was the cultural norm here. Extended families in one household were very common.

  “We can rely on the bankers to keep their meat holes shut?” Gelna didn’t sound terribly worried about repercussions.

  “That’s ‘pie holes’, and yes, I think we can rely on their discretion.” Tommy stopped, holding out his arm.

  A boisterous group of Kholarii males trooped past, all dressed in the same uniform, shorts and armless tunics. They appeared to be half drunk.

  “Looks like a football team celebrating a big win.” Tommy looked over at his friends. “S’funny; you come all this way, and things still seem familiar.”

  The players hooted their derision at a drunken Bolshari who was being shoved into the back of a patrol vehicle. At a stern look from the officer, they laughed and moved off. One of them sketched a mock salute before jogging off to catch up with his friends.

  “Let’s make sure Earth is safe before we go shopping for a house here in Khulmet.” Kale grabbed Gelna who had resumed walking down the sidewalk. He nodded down a side street as he started moving that way. “How much time do you figure we have?”

  “Keeva told me it takes place over a couple of centuries.” Tommy had to raise his voice to be heard over the throbbing bass-beat coming from a drinking establishment. The sound faded quickly as they passed. “She was planning to emerge a little over a hundred years from now. Once they come out, they have to wait until all the ships in the galaxy have checked in. They compare notes and then plan their next moves.”

  “So if too many ships react the way she did?” Kale swerved around something unidentifiable on the sidewalk.

  “It could mean sterilization.” Tommy shuddered in the warm, moist air. “We need to go there, with the Dark Defiance, and get her to help convince her sister ship not to overreact when she sees how we’ve turned out.”

  “We should visit a few more planets,” Gelna declared. “The more we can talk around to our way of seeing things, the better our chances once they all start their big conference. And I’d like to keep my home world from being summarily destroyed as well.”

  “Thinking of going home?” Kale gave him a look of surprise.

  “Gods no,” Gelna blurted. “I’d be a constant reminder of our failure to subdue Earth. They’d kill me quietly and pretend I never existed. Rebels will take any excuse to start trouble.”

  “What about you, Tommy?” They stopped in front of the bank. Kale turned to Tommy, who was gazing up at the carved letters on the building’s ornate frieze. “You thinking of going home? You’re the only one who still can.”

  Tommy dropped his gaze to the door. “Reckon I might visit some family on Guernsey while we’re in the neighborhood.” He started up the stairs. “But this is home now.” He stopped inside the doors, waiting until a young manager walked over to greet him. She had a bandage on her lip, and the fingers of her left hand were taped together. Her face was a mass of swollen bruises framed by flowing black hair.

  She was still the most beautiful woman Tommy had ever seen.

  “Good afternoon.” Tommy returned her smile. “My name is Tommy Kennedy. Might I know who I’m conducting business with?”

  She laughed. “Ailekna.”

  This is definitely home for me now.

  Northern California Coast

  Near Trinidad Bay

  Caul put the locator in the glove compartment as Jan brought their rented SUV to a halt on the roadside turnout. The second vehicle, filled with armed special-forces operators, pulled up next to them. A morning mist drifted down between the massive trunks of the incense cedars, ghosting across the road and tumbling down to the Pacific shore.

  Only one othe
r vehicle was there. A custom chopper was parked facing the ocean, and a gray-haired man with a square jaw was sitting in the saddle, looking out towards the sunrise. He glanced over at the SUVs, giving them a view of the black patch over his right eye. He returned his attention to the ocean, setting his steaming travel mug on the gas tank. He crossed his arms, sliding his right hand inside his leather jacket.

  This is the mighty Odin of Norse mythology? Sitting on a bike watching the sunrise? Jan was vaguely disappointed. She had expected to find him in the boardroom of a multinational conglomerate, and yet, here he sat, in the morning mist. I wonder if he’s a surfer…

  They stepped out of the vehicles and stood by their doors, facing the older man. It must have been obvious that they were there for him because he pulled a Walther-P5, 9mm, double-action pistol from under his jacket and aimed it at Caul. “I get the feeling that you’re not here to watch the sun come up.”

  The military operators, knowing how easily this encounter could lead to an interplanetary war, kept their weapons out of sight behind the door.

  Caul, decked out in borrowed shorts and a jersey identifying him as a member of the Rota Naval Station volleyball team, held his hands out to the side, showing empty palms. “Father?”

  The older man frowned, still pointing his weapon at Caul, but no longer aiming along the sights with his one good eye. “No! Caul?” He laid his weapon on the saddle as he swung a leg over the rear tire, standing to stare at his son. “Caul!” he bellowed, suddenly racing over to slam into him, wrapping him in a bone-crushing embrace.

  Jan watched as they roughed each other up good naturedly. Glad I’m not related.

  “How did you find me?”

  Caul nodded at Jan. “Their ship is called the Völund. We met up with them at Khola. What more did I need to divine your fate?”

  “Khola…” Odin’s face grew grim. “The house of Bliekr tampered with our navigation. Few of the advance guard made it through alive.”

  “I knew it had to be something like that.” Caul punched Odin’s shoulder happily. “Liev Bliekr tried to seize my vessel yesterday, but his raid turned out to be a dull axe. We seized his ship instead.” He grasped his father’s shoulder. “I make a gift to you – the scion of that scheming house, as well as his ships. His captains can swear to you or join their former master in Niflheim.”

  The older man’s eyes gleamed. “A deck beneath my feet again! The Scylffing is sitting up on the far side of the moon, falling to pieces. We haven’t been able to reach her for centuries now.”

  “She’s here?” Caul grinned. “Do you think your Velentsgaat generator might still work?”

  “Mayhap it will. Don’t you have one on your ship to tunnel us home?”

  “I do, but we’re not going straight home,” Caul said casually. “We’re joining with the humans to invade the Dactarii Republic. I thought you might like to join us.”

  Odin roared in approval, literally dancing a jig, kicking up tendrils of mist. “And with an extra generator, we have the ability to walk in their back door any time we choose! That almost makes up for the last twenty-five centuries in exile.”

  “Was it bad?”

  “Well, the Danes were a great lot to go reaving with, but then they got so damned boring.” He chuckled. “I could hardly believe when they passed up the chance to fight the French. These were the same folk that took almost all of England and now they just wanted to sit at home and let the enemy come to them. After the British bombarded Copenhagen, I went back to England with them. Now there’s a folk that know how to have a little fun – probably because all the adventurous Danes ended up there…”

  He waved his hand inland. “The Americans aren’t so bad either. They let you carry a gun here, at least, and I’ve made a lot of money in the tech sector. I’ll miss the place.” He glanced over at his bike before turning back with a shrug. “Let’s go take a look at my new ship!”

  Caul indicated the front door of the vehicle but Odin stopped, fishing in his pocket. He stepped out from behind the door and tossed the ignition key towards the chopper. He stood there for a moment, looking at his vehicle. Finally he turned back for the open door.

  “Let’s get to work.”

  An interview with Andrew Claymore

  Host: So what’s next for the Black Ships universe?

  AG: What a good-looking question! It’s probably no surprise that the next installment will see the Human and Midgaard fleets probing for weaknesses in their common enemy, the Dactarii. A full war will break out and, given the size of the Dactari Republic, it can’t simply be a straight out slug fest. The allies will have to find a way to turn dactari strengths into weaknesses. The Völund will play a slightly different role than the one described by Admiral Towers at the end of this story. There are two very good reasons for that – he hasn’t thought of it yet and, when he does, it will be highly classified.

  Host: So, another standard length story is coming, or is there a novella in the pipeline as well?

  AG: Wow! It’s like you’re reading my mind!

  Host: Well, we do share the same cranium…

  AG: (making shushing motions with hands…) Anyway, there will be a full length story covering the war as described above, but Jan’s data from analyzing the midgaard cells was just too juicy for me to ignore. I knew she was letting the genie out of the bottle but it was too late to stop her. I would have had to kill both her and Harry – not to mention destroying the section of the ship that housed her lab. It has ‘bio-engineering run amok’ written all over it. An organelle that keeps your tissues alive for an incredibly long time? Just imagine what could go wrong if someone attempted to reverse engineer that into human tissue. I’ve been working on it since sending The Dark Defiance out for beta reading and edits. I’m about halfway through Orbital Decay, a novella that should be coming out this fall.

  Host: Will that fall between The Dark Defiance and the next full length title?

  AG: It will, and it’s going to have an impact on the war against the Dactarii.

  Host: Is there anything you’d like to say to the readers?

  AG: Absolutely. I would like them to know how much I appreciate the time they invested in reading this story. Free time is an increasingly rare commodity and the last thing I want to do is leave someone with the feeling that I’ve wasted some of that time. There’s more than a million eBooks out there, so I’m thrilled at the way The Black Ships has been received. I’m hoping to see the same with The Dark Defiance.

  Host: Is there any way for readers to let you know what they think of this book?

  AG: There sure is. If you have any feedback, you can reach me at AGClaymore@gmail.com . I try to respond to every email except for the ones about how someone needs me to front the taxes so they can move millions out of their country (for a generous fee, of course). If you really liked the story and want to help others to discover it, the best thing you can do is post a review on Amazon. It can take a long time for a new title to garner enough reviews to be taken seriously. The average rule of thumb seems to be one review for every one or two thousand readers, so it’s a big help anytime a reader takes the time to post one.

  Host: Well, thanks for dropping by.

  AG: No Problem. I usually sit in your seat anyway, seeing as one of us isn’t actually real…

  Host: Well, now things are just awkward.

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  Stay tuned for a sneak preview of The Orphan Alliance which launched Nov 22 of 2013.

  Part of the Problem

  The Business of War

  Presh, Oaxes

  The scent of rancid cooking oil wafted into the shuttle, reminding Harry of the food markets on Weirfall. The two planets had traded regularly, before the Human/Midgaard Alliance carved Weirfall out of the Dactari Republic, and many of the same ‘food on a stick’ varieties were present in the markets of both worlds. There were always some vendors who continued to use their oil far longer than was advisable. His stomach rumbled as he recognized the spicy tang of fried chiari tails.

  Where was that smuggler? He’d left an hour ago, promising to return with lunch.

  He sat up suddenly, his right hand coming to rest on the handgrip of his pistol. When did everything suddenly go quiet? If his contact had arrived, it would have drawn no notice from the crowds outside the small smuggling shuttle. Harry was here to negotiate a price for control systems. Weirfall excelled in the construction of carbon hulls for warships, but lacked the electronics industries necessary for fitting out those hulls. The Oaxians specialized in the production of control systems but had no facilities for the production of hulls.

  The Law of Imperial Trade and Commerce had been created by the old empire and it was strictly enforced, even now, by the Republic. No planet could be allowed to attain economic independence. No more than sixty percent of a product could be manufactured on any single world. It was an effective means of suppressing rebellion as any world that broke away would soon find their economy in shambles.

  Now that Weirfall was an Alliance world – the only Alliance world – the level of unrest was quickly growing. Harry needed to convince the local corporate leaders on Oaxes to allow some of their shipments to be ‘captured’ by Alliance forces in return for generous payment. On the face of it, it sounded like a good plan. The companies could write off huge losses, leading to lower taxes while still getting the revenue.