Fringe Campaign

by Rachel Aukes

  Birk’s jaw dropped. “Mine? But—”

  “But nothing. You’ve been on my team for ten years now. It’s time you had your own ship. Then you don’t have to sneak your girlfriend onto my ship anymore.”

  Birk stuttered for a couple of seconds before he gulped and said, “Thanks. This is the first time anyone’s ever given me something.”

  Critch scowled. “Aw, damn it. You’re not going to cry on me now, are you?”

  “No,” he replied quickly, but his voice was shaky.

  The six other team members started cracking jokes from the back seat.

  “Quit messing with me guys,” Birk said, “or else I won’t ask any of you losers to be on the Scorpia’s crew.”

  “Are you going to rename it Pinky?” Laughs erupted.

  Birk held up his pinky finger, which was missing the top inch. “Hey, it was a serious injury.”

  That really got them going.

  Critch enjoyed the camaraderie. These people were his family, and he looked forward to the day the CUF stopped trying to kill them. Not like he expected that to ever happen.

  He motioned to the tower that stood in the center of all the docks. “Let’s head to the Rebus Station Dock Control tower and check in with them.”

  The jokes continued as Birk approached the front of the tower without slowing down. Critch braced himself against the dash. He’d worked alongside Birk for enough years that he could practically read the younger man’s mind. Birk applied the brakes hard, and all six men in the back seats rammed into the ones in front of them. Jokes turned into groans and curses.

  Critch shook his head, though humor tugged at his lips. He stepped out of the truck and headed for the tower. His wrist comm chimed, and he saw a message from Seda. “Orbital formation is reconfiguring. The Unity is powering up. Get out of Rebus Station now!”

  He looked up to see massive phase cannon blasts raining fire down from the sky. Critch’s eyes grew wide as he stared at the sky, expecting to be disintegrated in the next instant. But the blasts didn’t hit near the docks. Instead, they hit many miles away, far from Rebus Station. Critch’s blood ran cold. He ran around the truck to see for himself.

  Where a mountain had once stood proudly on the horizon, there was nothing but flat land.

  Broken Mountain was gone.

  Critch fell to his knees.

  Hundreds of innocent refugees would’ve been eating breakfast in the mountain’s caves. Fires hotter than the circles of hell would’ve poured through the tunnels like an insatiable dragon. Most would’ve died instantly. Most.

  The men, women, and children inside never stood a chance.

  There was no strategic advantage gained by Ausyar bombing a refugee camp. If anything, Ausyar would lose citizen support for the action. The corps general had bombed Broken Mountain purely out of an emotional need for retaliation.

  The cold chills coursing through Critch’s body enveloped his heart in hard ice. He pressed a hand on the ground to push himself to his feet. He remembered the threat he’d made to the drom when they’d reclaimed the warehouse district. Ausyar fought without honor. Critch had no problem doing the same.

  Chapter Twelve

  Repercussions

  Space, three quadrants out from Terra

  Heid

  “Will, initiate reverse engines. Cut forward movement. Let’s not step on the welcome mat quite yet,” Heid ordered from her chair on the bridge.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Will responded.

  The slightest change in the constant hum of the Arcadia’s engines was all that could be noticed when the ship was brought to a standstill.

  “What do we do now?” Sylvian asked.

  “We wait,” Heid said. “Nolin, run scans on the ships in Terran orbit. Mark the Unity and her complement. I want to know the exact location of every CUF ship near Terra.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Nolin said.

  The CUF had never had to fight any significant space marine fleet before, and because of that, the armada had been kept small, with military budgets supporting ground forces, gunships, and patrol ships far more than warships.

  While the CUF armada still dwarfed the specter fleet, the Arcadia changed the game. A Titan-class warship, the Arcadia dwarfed every other CUF ship except for its equals—the Unity and the Littorio.

  At the academy, she’d devoured books covering the Jovian War. In its epic space battles, the lunar, Mars, and Europa colonies had fought Earth’s massive space marine force for independence.

  Earth had treated its colonies much like Alluvia and Myr did now. The difference now was, the Collective didn’t have an enormous force like Earth had had. Too far from the Jovian system to worry about massive scalar battles, the CUF designed its military strategy around two roles—a traffic cop to police fringe ships, and a guard dog over the colonies. The armada contained many gunships and patrol ships, but few warships, frigates, and destroyers. Its energy-based weapons, such as phase cannons and photon guns, could rain down terrifying damage on land-based targets. The same weapons posed far less danger in the vacuum of space, where a shot fired could be tracked from thousands of clicks away, giving its opponents hours to change course to avoid hitting a blast that could only travel in a straight line.

  The Arcadia had been a typical CUF warship, armed only with energy weapons. But Heid had added armaments that could wreak havoc on a warship and break apart anything smaller, like a frigate or a destroyer. She both dreaded and looked forward to using them. She mused the Arcadia looked more like a pirate ship now than a military ship, and she felt pride in its new look. She wondered what that thought said about her.

  “Captain,” Nolin said, “the Unity just fired its phase cannons at the planet.”

  Heid clenched her armrests. “What was the target?”

  He answered several seconds later. “I have the coordinates.” He turned around. “It was Broken Mountain.”

  She collapsed back in her chair. Broken Mountain, first a temporary home for those freed from the Citadel, had become the sanctuary of any refugee found homeless or whose life was in peril.

  “Sylvian, connect me to Terran headquarters.”

  A moment later, Hari’s distraught image appeared on Heid’s screen.

  “What’s going on down there, Hari?” Heid demanded.

  Hari yelled a command to someone offscreen, and then turned back to Heid. “The CUF evacuated Rebus Station last night. And they’ve just bombed Broken Mountain. We have no details on the severity, but from visuals, it looks like a total loss.”

  “Put me through to Seda and Critch.”

  “Hold on. Seda’s en route to Broken Mountain, and Critch is still at the docks.”

  Heid’s screen split into three visuals. One showed Hari looking away. Critch joined next, his image shaky, like he was walking. Seda joined a second later.

  Heid spoke first. “What do you know so far about the attack?”

  Seda answered. “It came from the Unity, likely in retaliation for me blowing all my juice plants.”

  Heid’s lips parted in shock at the news, but she quickly regained her composure. “Do you anticipate more attacks?”

  Critch spoke first. “If the fleet departs orbit, then it was a parting shot. If they stay in orbit, I’d lay bets they’ll hit more targets.”

  Her jaw tightened. “I can be within firing range of the Unity in under thirty minutes.” She took a quick breath. “Do you want me to attack the Unity?”

  “Yes,” Critch said as a matter of fact.

  “Belay that,” Seda said quickly and loudly. “The situation’s far too tenuous. Bringing the Arcadia into orbit will add gas to the fire. That will guarantee another attack. We need to see what Ausyar will do next.”

  “Hari,” Critch said. “Has the fleet shown any indication of breaking orbit yet?”

  Hari looked off screen again. “No. They are still holding in the same orbital configuration. Wait. I take it back. It looks like the two frigates hav
e broken off.”

  “Captain,” Nolin yelled, “we have two frigates on an intercept course.”

  “Shields up,” Heid commanded with frustration. The Arcadia must’ve been caught on a scan, something she hadn’t expected. She turned back to her comm panel. “They’re on their way to me. I’ll report in after we deal with them.” With that, she hung up the comm and turned her attention back to the bridge.

  “How far out?” she asked.

  “Fifteen thousand clicks,” Nolin said. “They’re increasing speed, and have raised their shields.”

  Heid hit her internal comm. “Jovo, activate missiles one and two.”

  “Activating missiles one and two, Captain,” came Jovovich’s reply.

  She turned to Luther. “You have two missiles, Luther. Make each one count.”

  “I will.” His hard gaze relayed how serious he was. Heid, like the rest of her crew who’d served in the CUF, had no experience with projectiles. They’d only been trained on energy weapons. Luther, a torrent from the Uprising, had extensive experience with every type of projectile weapon from machine guns to guided missile systems. She prayed his skills hadn’t rusted too much in twenty years.

  “Ten thousand clicks,” Nolin said. “We’re in photon range.”

  “Prepare for evasive maneuvers,” Heid ordered. “Sylvian, ping them. Warn them that if they fire upon us, we will attack.”

  A second later. “Ping sent.”

  “Five thousand clicks. They’ve fired phase cannons!” Nolin announced. “I’m feeding trajectories now.”

  As soon as the trajectories were entered into the system, Will banked the ship to avoid the blasts with plenty of distance between them.

  The frigates fired again, and the process repeated. This time, the distance between the ship and blasts was smaller.

  “Three thousand clicks,” Nolin said.

  “Will, I need you to line up nose to nose with those frigates,” Luther said.

  “Hold on,” Will said as his hands flew over the controls. “Okay. How’s that?”

  “Almost…yes, right there.” Luther fired both guided missiles, one right after the other.

  Each frigate quit firing as it maneuvered to avoid the new threat. They reacted to the missiles like they would photon blasts, which cost them. They banked to evade the missiles. As the missiles passed in between the two frigates, Luther exploded them, and shrapnel flew out from each missile in a 180-degree arc. Shrapnel cut through energy shields like butter, and pierced the hulls.

  Projectiles weren’t showy like phase cannons, but they got the job done more easily. With their hulls compromised in hundreds of small places, each frigate was losing crucial oxygen and heat too fast to replenish. Both ships turned and blasted back toward the fleet. Heid wondered if they’d make it back before their crews perished. She never enjoyed seeing lives lost, but she had no problem in seeing it done if it meant protecting her people.

  Let them come.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Complications

  Torrent Headquarters, Terra

  Reyne

  Reyne entered orbit on the opposite side of Terra from where the CUF fleet sat above Rebus Station. He was surprised to find no drones or ships preventing him from landing. Of course, to leave, he needed the space docks, and the CUF sat in position to make a shooting gallery of anything that launched from the docks.

  Fortunately, the CUF didn’t know about Seda Faulk’s secret spaceport, which had become the torrent headquarters on Terra. Once the Gryphon broke the atmosphere, Reyne kept the ship at an altitude of twenty thousand meters so he could maintain a decent speed and not fight turbulence on his trip halfway around the world.

  Even pushing the engines, it took another four hours for the Gryphon to reach Seda’s runway. He tapped the comm and announced across the ship, “Prepare for landing.”

  “I don’t see it yet,” Wen, a new torrent from Nova Colony, said from the seat Sixx usually sat in.

  “Trust me, it’s there,” Reyne said. With a holographic canopy above the property, the spaceport looked like a rocky pasture. Reyne had been in and out of there before, though each time he brought the ship through the holographic ground was an unpleasant adrenaline rush.

  As the ship sped toward what looked like rocky ground, Wen sucked in a breath.

  Reyne held his breath too, until the ship passed through the camouflage and the spaceport came into full view. “It’s there,” he said on an exhale.

  He’d sent an encrypted ping as soon as he’d entered orbit, to announce his arrival. When he saw a docking bay with a green light, he maneuvered the Gryphon into position and initiated the docking sequence. The ship lowered into the bay with a screeching thud, and Reyne winced. He glanced back at Wen. “I’m a bit rusty.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Wen replied. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

  “I’m shutting down engines,” Boden’s voice came through the comms.

  Reyne tapped his comm. “We’re here. Welcome to Terra. Grab your bags and prepare to exit.”

  Wen stood. “I guess I’d better go clear out my bunk then.”

  “See you outside,” Reyne said without looking back. He initiated the shutdown sequence, and the panel displayed the status of each system as it shut down in order. When the panel went blank, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stood.

  He rubbed his stiff fingers and stretched his back. Every joint complained at lack of movement for so many hours. In his younger days, he could sit for an entire day without any problems. But he was sixty-seven now. If he were a citizen, he’d be in the prime of his life, but in the fringe, sixty-seven made him downright old.

  He entered a code to lock down the Gryphon’s systems, and headed off the bridge. In the hallway, the dozen fresh-faced torrents stood at the door, ready to exit. Though, calling them “fresh-faced” was a stretch. Most were still skin-and-bones, and a few were up there in age with Reyne.

  “Coming through,” Reyne said as he weaved through the ragtag group. He opened the door and exited first. He stood off to the side as the rest walked down the ramp. A few were a bit wobbly as their bodies adjusted to the shift from the reduced gravity Reyne kept the Gryphon at to Terra’s 1.2g.

  “New arrivals, over here.” A man waved at the crowd, and the passengers migrated in that direction.

  Reyne noticed Sixx standing at the end of the dock, his arms crossed over his chest and a smile on his face. Reyne smiled back, and strode toward his second-in-command.

  “Took you long enough to make it back here,” Sixx said as Reyne approached.

  They embraced in a bear hug.

  Reyne stepped back. “It’s good to see you.”

  Reyne could see the stress and fatigue behind his friend’s features. “I heard about the Myr trip. I’m sorry that you didn’t find what you were looking for.”

  Sixx waved him off. “It’s been eleven years. What should I expect?”

  “You should expect answers,” Reyne said. “Any husband deserves that.”

  He blew out a breath. “The deeper I go, the more of it mess it becomes. I finally found a servant who recognized Qelle’s picture. She said she’d seen her a few months back at the Smithton flower market.” He held out a hand as though he wanted to make a fist. “Then later that same day, I came across another servant who not only recognized Qelle’s picture but also said she knew her, and that Qelle had been dead for six years.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. All I know is that until I’m positive Qelle is gone, I can’t quit looking for her.”

  “We,” Reyne said. “We won’t quit looking for her.”

  Boden came up. “Ah, look what the cat dragged in.”

  Reyne couldn’t tell which man looked more tired: the thief who’d had his wife stolen from him, or the recovering drug addict who’d spent time in a sweet soy den.

  Sixx didn’t make a witty comeback. Instead, he looked over Boden’s shoulder. “Where’s Throttle?”


  No answer came.

  Sixx’s eyes narrowed as he looked from Reyne to Boden. Boden lowered his head and walked off without a word. Sixx turned back to Reyne. “What happened?”

  “We believe droms picked her up at the docks in Devil Town.”

  Sixx took a step back like he’d been shot, and then paced in a small circle. Reyne knew exactly how his friend felt. Sixx had been a part of the crew since Throttle had been a child. He’d been a big brother to her, and would take her loss as hard, if not harder, than Reyne was taking it.

  Sixx stopped. “Is she still alive?” His voice cracked.

  “I think so,” Reyne said, and then added a hard, “Yes. Nothing’s been on the news.” They both knew what Reyne had meant by that statement. Throttle was part of an infamous crew. If the CUF had her, she’d be publicly executed. That they had seen no news of an execution gave Reyne hope. “Vym’s sent out for word on her whereabouts. We’ll find her.”

  Sixx furled his brow, unconvinced.

  “We’ll find her,” Reyne repeated, harder.

  “We’ll find her. We’ll find both of them.” Sixx clapped Reyne on the shoulder, and the pair began to walk slowly to the hangar Boden was entering.

  When they reached the hangar door, Reyne inhaled deeply, for the first time noticing the fresh Terran air. “When this is all said and done, we’re going to take a very long vacation somewhere very far from any sort of trouble.”

  Sixx grunted. “Don’t forget, I still have that biome kit. I plan to find myself a nice little moon somewhere and set up a nice little terraformed ranch for myself when this is all done.”

  Reyne smirked. “You’d go crazy on a moon by yourself with nothing to steal.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I’m ready to try something else.”

  With that, he held the door open for Reyne and then followed the captain inside.

  It’d been a year since Reyne had been at Seda Faulk’s personal retreat. That a single person could own something most colonies couldn’t afford hinted at the massive fortune the man had attained from his business enterprises. Easily the richest of all colonists, Seda’s wealth surpassed that of many citizens. Without Seda’s support for the Fringe Liberation Campaign, the CUF would’ve quashed the rebellion within the first weeks. As it stood, Seda had given the fringe a fighting chance.