Fringe Campaign

by Rachel Aukes

  When Bree looked at her, confused, Throttle elaborated. “Patrol ships scan for energy signatures. We’re not broadcasting enough of a signature for their systems to pick us up.”

  “But what if they see us?” Bree countered.

  “They’d have to get within a couple hundred clicks to get a visual on us. And as long as we stay on the dark side, nothing will reflect off the ship. They’d have an easier time finding a needle in a haystack.”

  Bree thought for a moment, and then seemed to snap back to attention. She unbuckled and moved around the small cabin. The only blankets were on the ship’s two fold-out bunks. The trio huddled together as the temperatures quickly dropped.

  “How long do we have to wait?” Lily asked in a soft voice.

  Throttle shivered. “As long as we have to.”

  Her implant went on again, only to be shut off a few seconds later. Each time, she bit through the pain. She knew Axos was torturing her on purpose, taking out his anger on her from a distance. That temper of his had killed Sixx’s wife, along with how many other innocents. Throttle clenched her teeth. He could torture her all he wanted. He wasn’t going to kill her. But she sure as hell was going to kill him.

  Chapter Ten

  Old Friends

  Space, on the way to Terra

  Heid

  Heid sat in her quarters on board the Arcadia, staring at the blank comm screen. She’d been staring for a good ten minutes, trying to build her confidence. This wasn’t the first time she’d called Barrett since she’d broken ties with the Forces, but this was the first time she’d be testing their friendship.

  She took a deep breath. Then she dialed the number, using an encrypted scrambler.

  He answered within a few seconds. “Hello, Gabi.”

  She smiled. “Hello, Barrett. You look good.” He did. The blue commandant’s uniform looked right on him, and he’d always had a natural poise and confidence that seemed to exude from him in every interaction.

  “And you look stunning as always.” He cocked his head. “I believe this is the first time I’ve seen you out of uniform. Even back at the Academy, I don’t remember ever seeing you out of an approved uniform.”

  She glanced down at the simple clothes she now wore. Her shirt had been hand-sewn by a Nova colonist as a gift for her coming to Nova Colony’s aid. She wore it as a reminder of whom she was fighting for. She turned her attention back to Barrett. “I won’t take much of your time. I know the longer we talk, the greater the risk of having our comms intercepted. Do you remember the conversation we had the last time we spoke?”

  He nodded. “I do, and I still stand by my belief in equality for all. As do the other two. We all believe what you did was courageous, but you’ll always be on the run as long as you’re alive and the Arcadia flies.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I have no doubt,” he said.

  She inhaled. “I’m sure you saw Stationmaster Faulk’s broadcast.”

  “Everyone has seen the broadcast. Ausyar has ordered the entire Armada to be sent to the fringe, though we’re still awaiting direction on how the Forces will respond.”

  “And where are you to take the Littorio?” Heid asked.

  “I’m off to Terra, leading a complement of two frigates and six destroyers,” he said.

  She lifted her chin. “Good. I need support at Terra.”

  “I see.” His lips thinned. “Exactly what kind of support do you have in mind?”

  She swallowed. “Whatever support it takes to ensure Rebus Station remains in the hands of Terrans and not Ausyar.”

  He took a deep breath. “You were able to take the Arcadia because you’d spent years hand-picking your crew for that precise reason. Nearly all my crew are citizens, many of them Myrad. The Forces have changed since you left, Gabriela. Dromadiers will turn in their bunkmates at the slightest whisper of rebellion.”

  She swallowed. “I suspected as much.”

  He held up a hand. “However, if Ausyar were no longer corps general, I could be of great support to the colonies’ quest for independence.”

  Chills flitted across her skin at the sudden hope sprouting inside her. “I believe my friends and I may be of assistance in making that happen. Your support means more than you’ll ever know, Barrett.”

  He shrugged. “We go back a long way. You know you can count on me when it matters.”

  She smiled. “I know. And the others?”

  “There’s not a single warship commandant who wants to fire upon colonists. Smith and Lyness are both off to Darios, along with much of the remainder of the Armada. They, too, look for opportunities to bring peace to the Collective.”

  She frowned. “Why Darios? I thought Sol Base was firmly under CUF control, since the blight was destroyed.”

  “It is. But many other Darion colonies have banded together and have surrounded Sol Base. They keep picking off ground forces. They seem hell-bent on taking Sol Base, even if they have to blow the docks to take it.”

  Pride stirred. “Good for them. That blight wiped out their largest city, and they know the Myrads were behind it. Who can blame them for wanting anyone associated with Myr off their planet?”

  He gave her a knowing look. “We both know the Collective will never willingly give up Darios. The planet’s food feeds seventy percent of the Collective.”

  “The Collective should’ve considered that before they started treating colonists like second-class citizens,” she retorted.

  He held up his hands. “I agree, but I’m saying that out of all the colonies, the Collective depends on Darios.”

  “Then, we’ll pry Darios out of the Collective’s cold, dead hands if we have to,” she said.

  He frowned. “Let’s hope things don’t come to that.” She heard a chime on his end, and he glanced away. “I’ll talk to you soon.” The screen went blank.

  She gripped the table to hold her anxiety in check. She’d taken a great risk in calling Barrett, but the Campaign needed more support if it were to succeed.

  Commandant Barrett Anders had been her study partner at the CUF military academy, and they’d remained close friends throughout their careers. He’d even dated her roommate, Lina, for a couple months. She realized that she should’ve told him Lina was currently sitting in prison, courtesy of Ausyar. News like that would’ve likely erased any of doubts he might still be having about helping the Campaign.

  She pushed off from her desk. They’d be reaching their destination within four hours. It was time she met with her crew. They needed to understand what they were about to face at Terra.

  Chapter Eleven

  Turning Point

  Torrent Headquarters, Terra

  Critch

  “Rebus dock control informed me the Scorpia has been captured and is sitting in their docks,” Hari announced as she walked into the lounge where Seda and Critch sat drinking whiskey.

  Critch’s eye twitched. “And her crew?”

  She lowered her face. “Executed. Rumor is they were drifted from a frigate.”

  “That’s a loss to the Campaign,” Seda said. “The Scorpia was a good ship and crew.”

  “The best.” Critch took a long drink. The Scorpia was the newest ship in the feared specter fleet—the fleet of pirates turned torrents. He’d overseen the ship’s design, and had hired every crewmember back when he was a pirate. He set down his empty glass. “How about we take it back?”

  Seda thought for a moment, rubbing his right shoulder where his prosthetic arm connected to his skin. “It feels too soon to make a move for the docks.”

  “We take the docks, we take Rebus Station. Ausyar will be forced to launch a new offensive or negotiate.”

  Seda cocked his head. “Corps General Ausyar is not the type to negotiate, and I’m not comfortable forcing him into a corner.”

  Critch rapped his fingers on the chair’s armrest. “We also can’t maintain guerrilla tactics. We’ll r
un out of resources and soldiers long before the CUF does.”

  “I agree with Critch,” Hari said. “The only reason we took the warehouse district is because the CUF is under public scrutiny. Citizen support is currently in our favor, but who knows how long that will last, with the Collective propaganda machine skewing all the news. If we can take Rebus Station with minimal loss of innocent lives, then we have a chance at having an honest negotiation with Ausyar or Parliament.”

  Seda refilled his and Critch’s empty glasses, and poured a glass for Hari. “There’s a way I can do that, but—” He cursed. “This is going to slash my revenue streams.” He looked up at the pair watching him. “There are only two reasons the Collective cares about Terra.”

  “Your plants provide over ninety percent of the fuel used for interplanetary travel,” Hari said.

  Critch added, “And we’re sitting right smack in between the citizen worlds and their darling garden colony, Darios.”

  Seda nodded. “I have direct control over one of those things.”

  Hari’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to turn the juice plants over to the Collective, are you?”

  Seda belted out a laugh. “No. I’m going to blow them all.” He then scowled, as if the words had a bad taste in his mouth, and he downed his drink and threw the glass across the room. It hit the wall and shattered into hundreds of tiny shards.

  Critch’s gaze narrowed. “That’ll hurt our fleet as much as it’ll hurt the CUF’s. Everyone will be running off solar power only within months, if not weeks. That means no more jump capabilities.”

  Seda shook his head. “The CUF burns through exponentially more juice than all general aviation combined. It’ll cripple them before it cripples us—both by losing jump capabilities as well as serving a blow to the economy. I have new plant locations mapped that haven’t yet been reviewed by Parliament. I also have the expertise on hand to rebuild a plant. We can have new juice flowing for colonists within two years. The CUF has no such resources, and after the stranglehold the CUF has had on Rebus Station, no Terran would work for the Collective, no matter how well they paid.”

  “They can force them to work,” Hari said. “The Collective has supported indentured servitude for decades. If you take away one of their most precious resources, you may push them over the ledge into legalizing slavery.”

  “The declaration of independence has been made,” Seda said. “If the Collective moves into slavery, the remaining colonies will join a single cause rather than all fight for themselves. It would only strengthen the Fringe Liberation Campaign. The CUF cannot sustain a war spread out over four planets and an asteroid belt, especially without jump speed. It would take them months to move ships among planets, and years to move from one end of the fringe to the other. Entire wars could be fought and won during such time.”

  “Do it,” Critch said. “It levels the scalar battlefield, and the colonists have the upper hand planetside. I don’t like the idea of having the Honorless’s wings clipped, but we’ve been at a stalemate, more or less, for the past year. We take a block here and lose a block there. This way, we can push the war to the next front, whatever that becomes.”

  Seda turned to Hari. “You know I’ve always depended on your counsel. I want to know you’re with me on this.”

  Her features were tight and her lips thin, but she gave a small nod. “I’m with you. Always.”

  Seda opened the computer panel on his desk. He looked nauseous as he entered codes into the system. “I knew the plants were always at risk to be taken by the CUF,” he said as he continued typing. “Which is why I established safeguards and prepared procedures for all staff.”

  He breathed deeply, tapped a final button, and then leaned back. “Every active plant listed on Parliament’s register of fuel operations will self-destruct in ninety minutes. All staff employed as of today will be credited five years’ salary in their bank accounts. That will hopefully be enough to encourage them to work for me again after we’re free from the Collective.”

  Critch walked over to the bar and grabbed a new glass and filled it. He handed it to Seda. “Now, we wait.”

  Two hours later, every juice plant on Terra melted. Critch had expected massive explosions, but evidently Seda had taken more environmentally-friendly measures to disable the plants without firework shows.

  Seda made no news announcement, instead waiting to see how Ausyar and Parliament responded. He had sent out a company-wide communication, which stated the plants were being demolished to prevent hostile takeover. Critch liked to think Seda’s employees would’ve done the same thing had they been in his shoes.

  The trio waited another two hours before anything happened.

  Seda’s comm channel lit up. “Corbin, what do you have?”

  “There’s been no change to the CUF formation. There are two warships, four frigates, and twelve destroyers, all in standard orbital formation. But it looks like every gunship and transport that was on Terra’s surface is launching, and they’re not wasting their time returning to the fleet.”

  “Expand your scans to include two quadrants out from Terra’s orbit. Keep a close eye on every CUF ship out there, and let me know the moment you see one change course even a tenth of a degree,” Seda said and disconnected the comm.

  Hari’s wrist comm chimed, and she read a message. She looked up, startled. “The CUF is evacuating Rebus Station. They’ve relinquished control of the docks and are in the process of departing. My contact says colonists are cheering in the streets, and Dock Control is launching CUF ships as soon as they are boarded. They expect to have the docks cleared within an hour.” She grabbed her chest. “Seda, you did it. We’ve reclaimed Rebus Station!”

  Critch grumbled. “Damn. I was itching for a fight.”

  “You may get one yet.” Seda steepled his fingers as he eyed Critch and Hari, the high-tech artificial limb nearly identical to his left hand. “I won’t be comfortable until Ausyar and his fleet are at least a million clicks from Terra’s orbit.”

  Critch pushed to his feet.

  “Where are you headed?” Seda asked.

  “There’ll be chaos on the streets, now the CUF is gone. I’m going to lead a team in to help secure the docks. We’ll move in the morning. If Ausyar hasn’t blown Rebus Station to bits by then, we should be in the clear.”

  “Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll find a couple of droms who didn’t make it off-world,” Seda said with sarcasm.

  “Maybe,” Critch replied without a hint of sarcasm.

  It was in the early morning, an hour before the sun came up, when Critch took four teams with him to secure the docks. They drove through town in four gray trucks, where colonists still partied in the streets. They had to weave through the crowds and passed-out drunks. Bottles crunched under the tires. Partyers held up drinks and cheered at the vehicles when they saw who was inside. The crowd began to chant, “Fender, Fender!” over and over again, as if Critch were some kind of legend. One woman bared her chest, which brought on more cheers.

  “Do we have to stop for the infamous Drake Fender to sign autographs?” Birk asked with a sly grin.

  “Keep driving,” Critch growled. He gave a lazy wave in acknowledgement of the cheers.

  He was surprised to see there’d been no riots, though he knew they would come. Rebus Station was currently in a state of anarchy, which meant lawlessness, which meant there would be those who’d have no qualms about taking advantage of their neighbors if it served their selfish needs.

  He suspected Seda and he would have to expend torrent resources keeping the colony safe until Rebus Station could reorganize its own police force. All that assumed the Collective was truly turning control of the colony back to the colonists. Critch had his doubts.

  By the time they reached the docks, night gave way to morning dawn. It’d taken them longer to arrive than Critch had planned, though he supposed they weren’t on a schedule for this mission. Critch keyed his team on his wrist comm. “Th
is goes down how we planned. Maddox, your team has the commercial docks. Nat, your team’s on the cargo docks. Alex, your team’s on the general aviation docks. My team’s taking the Collective docks. Report back in one hour. Time check is 0547.”

  Double-clicks came back from each team lead in acknowledgement of the plan, and the trucks pulled away in a starburst pattern as each team headed to its docks.

  Critch had chosen the Collective docks since they posed the most risk. If Ausyar had left squads, they would most likely be found here. Dock Control had reported an all-clear, but Critch had to see for himself that the CUF had cleared out.

  The Collective docks were three rows of parallel docks. Birk drove them slowly down the first row. It was entirely empty. Not a single ship remained. “So far, so good,” Birk said, and he picked up speed.

  “Sure you don’t want us to walk the docks?” James asked from the back seat.

  Critch turned around. “Not this time. Today’s just a quick pass through to make sure they didn’t leave any nasty surprises behind. We’ll be back after the fleet leaves orbit.”

  The second row was empty except for two small cargo haulers. When he saw the Faulk Industries logo on the hulls, he suspected they’d been seized by the CUF and abandoned when the Ausyar cleared out his ground forces. The CUF had no need for civilian ships in their armada, but they often seized colonist ships and sold them on auction to citizens. Critch had lost two pirate ships to the CUF in his earlier days before he’d learned how to better avoid detection.

  “Seda will like having those back,” Critch said, and Birk continued on.

  When they drove down the third row of docks, Critch felt a weight lift off his chest. In one of the last docking bays stood his missing specter.

  Birk pointed. “Hey, that’s the Scorpia.”

  Critch nodded. It was good to see her, though he preferred to see her crew with her. He turned to Birk. “She’s yours if you want her.”