Spinward Fringe Broadcast 11

by Randolph Lalonde

  The final message in her transmission started then. It was his favourite. The lights were down, she was in bed with the covers mostly drawn up and the view was close, as if he was right beside her. “Finally got some sleep. Our prototype is being manufactured, early testing shows that it’s a keeper after all. The new team is amazing. I woke up way too early, had a dream you were back. I won’t tell you the rest, could be a little early in our relationship for that.” She hesitated, chewed her bottom lip a little, something he’d never seen her do. “‘Kay, can’t dangle something like that and not tell you. We were pregnant, early days, but there was so much happiness around us. That’s a lot, I know, but I’m missing you all the time these days, if I’m being honest. My dreams are filling in maybe. I love you, Jake, can’t wait to continue us. Miss you, wish you were here.” She yawned, putting a hand in front of her gaping mouth. “Gonna get more sleep. Sweet dreams.”

  Yes, that was definitely his favourite. He left it on that last second, where she puckered a kiss for him as the recording ended. The thought of having children hadn’t really occurred to him since he got back together with her, but there was no reason why they couldn’t. The idea didn’t frighten him, even though he knew he should at least be nervous.

  His only experiences were with Alice, and he felt like he’d put her under the care of others while she was most vulnerable. She was at the Academy, practically full grown, sure, but that wasn’t a decision he made either. The fact that the little responsibility he had was shirked for duty with the Fleet was central to his thinking when he imagined Ayan having to take care of whoever they brought into the world. He didn’t think it was fair for either one of them to have to stay behind, but he had a feeling that she would volunteer, especially since she already took a post that required her presence in the Haven Solar System anyway. Was that a way for her to start building a home for herself, and by extension; him?

  Whether it was the muting of emotions he suffered while he was a framework, or simply the situation he was in, or both, he’d never felt the strong pull of duty versus family before. There was so much to miss with Alice, and she was an adult - young, yes, but an adult - he couldn’t imagine how much he’d miss out on with a baby. Even still, the implication that Ayan wanted to have children with him made him yearn for home even more. A nervous tic made him occasionally doubt that she’d wait for him, but he cursed at it, called it paranoia.

  “Captain Valent,” Carnie called down the access crawlspace. “You should see this.”

  Jake made the climb up the service hatch, closing the doors behind him and emerged behind the cockpit. A rear seat waited. He deactivated his helmet and sat down. “How do things look?”

  “We took a chance and scanned the emergence point,” Minh-Chu said, bringing up an image of three Order of Eden single seat fighters. “There are patrols. It’s going to be rough.”

  Finn joined them, retracting his helmet. Liara took the last seat in the cockpit - like bridge. “I’m here, what’s up?”

  “Patrols,” Jake said. “Most likely a carrier near our next emergence point. How are our shields?”

  “Great, everything’s great. Any sign of warped gravity?”

  “None yet, so there might not be an interdictor in the area,” Carnie answered.

  “So, do we keep scanning?” Minh-Chu asked. “I already adjusted the trajectory as much as we could, so we won’t come out right where those fighters were, but I couldn’t bring us out much sooner than we planned. We need time to decelerate in the wormhole. Someone was a little ambitious with the speed.”

  “Sorry, man,” Carnie said. “I thought I was following orders.”

  “I just said we have to get this ship home as soon as possible. We’re crammed in here like canned fish.”

  “And I thought that meant; pedal to the metal.” He turned to Liara and Finn. “Go really fast.”

  “I’ve driven a sport racer before,” Liara said. “I know ‘pedal to the metal.’”

  “Sorry,” Carnie said. “Just, most spacers don’t spend enough time on the ground to know what that means.”

  “You’ve driven Sport Racing?” Finn asked Liara.

  “Yeah, but not pro level. It was fun, especially the wheeled class.” Jake had only seen Sport Racing once, but he absolutely loved it. Teams built custom combustion engines and raced on old style frames in the most dangerous class, while other classes used hover pad vehicles that had a very restricted height. There was one class of Sport Racing he wished he could see, but he never had the opportunity: Anything Goes class or AG Sport Racing as most people called it. Teams were given a frame and were allowed to strap anything to it within a certain weight limitation. Frost saw several races in that class but didn’t talk about them much since they were seen as barbaric. There were a high number of fatalities.

  “Scan or not to scan?” Minh-Chu asked again. “Can’t believe I’m the one dragging everyone back on topic.”

  “What are we seeing on passive?”

  Carnie refreshed his display and shrugged. “Outer solar system nothingness and a couple stray asteroids. We’re looking through a pinhole with a dodgy candle though.”

  Jake looked at the jump counter and saw that they were five minutes out. “All right, flash ‘em. Just scan for three seconds.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Minh-Chu said. “Ready, Liara?”

  “Ready,” she said from the communications station.

  Before the tactical display finished populating, Jake said; “Get to the guns! Everyone else get close to the middle of the ship and brace.”

  “Hey, I’m the Captain here,” Minh-Chu said as he cracked his knuckles and rested his hands on the controls.

  “Well, orders, Captain? I see three destroyers and about thirteen fighters hiding from the front of our emergence point.”

  “Fourteen,” Carnie corrected. “Captain.”

  “What Jake said - crews to guns, get close to the middle of the ship and brace. This is going to be rough. Carnie, start calculating the next jump.”

  “Gunners are reporting ready,” Jake said from the weapons and operations station.

  “There is a lot of chatter, all of it encrypted. This ship does not have a lot of computing power. It’s going to take a minute for me to figure out what they’re saying.”

  “If I were to guess, it would sound a lot like; ‘Shhh! Here they come!’” Minh-Chu said.

  Twenty-Nine

  Restructuring

  * * *

  The Beast stood beside Overlord Dron in a carefully curated garden square. There were Order of Eden followers who served peacefully, many, many of them. They didn’t climb the ranks fast, if at all, but they lived lives of a quality that wouldn’t have been possible elsewhere.

  One of the perfect examples to Dron were the gardeners who took care of the assortments of flowers and other plants that adorned the sides of the paths in several spaces aboard the Glorious. They were made to be relaxing, places to reflect, visit with family, and have social time with fellow followers.

  For Dron’s purposes, it suited well. He’d been in stuffy command centres and surrounded by metal walls for too long. “Why are we opening communications here, Sir?” asked Ensign Lancet. He was a bright young man who Dron decided to have personally assigned to his wellbeing. He was told to ask questions, and he was just starting to open up.

  “There are many ways to demonstrate power and wealth, Simon,” Dron replied. “The Glorious was directly assaulted by the best tactician our enemy has, Captain Valent. It was a vicious attack, we took a great deal of damage. Thanks to the efforts of this crew, we not only have half our hangars ready, but all our main systems have been restored to optimal condition and this garden will be open for our people again tomorrow.”

  “Oh, right, this was open to space. I saw a notification about it, that it was off limits, but I didn’t realize we were standing inside it, sorry, Sir,” Lancet said.

  “Don’t apologize,” Dron said lightly. “Le
arning to keep track of events on a ship this size takes practice. You’re smart enough to do it, but you were being wasted in the bowels of the logistics department. What image am I projecting right now?”

  “Well,” Lancet said, stepping around him and the Beast enough to get a look. “Your uniform presentation is perfect. The Beast is standing beside you and you’re in a garden that was lifeless only a few days ago. I’d say confidence? Definitely power, since we’re on the Glorious, and maybe…”

  “A little whimsy,” Dron said, his mouth upturning into a reserved smile. “I designed the paths and chose many of the flowers here. The Lilac path in the forward area is something I’m particularly proud of. The scent of them is so powerful there, and the air is so heady. The paths lead to soft beds of clovers that are made for people to rest on, and the holographic sky, the breeze are all bent to the purpose of helping everyone forget that they’re aboard a ship. You’d think I wouldn’t have time for that kind of thing, but I have to make time. When I try my hand at designing something out of the norm, seek inspiration from faraway places - like one of the Lilac Gardens of Countess Valona Tineau Danti - one of the great, walled off spaces of the Core World estates. The only thing more beautiful than the gardens she designs is the woman herself: what a feat of flesh craft. You should see her life sized though, in hologram. Nothing can prepare you for her majestic form.”

  “I will,” Lancet said.

  “Good,” Dron looked at his wrist display and nodded. The Admirals had been waiting for three minutes and fifty seven seconds. “Stand to my left and hold any questions until this communication is finished.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Lancet said, taking his place and quickly checking his uniform.

  Dron activated the conference system. Four admirals and three governors appeared in front of them. After their projections finished appearing they looked perfectly real. “Welcome to the Glorious, ladies and gentlemen,” Dron said. “I hope the holography wherever you are is high quality enough to carry you away from your troubles for a moment, offering you a splendid view of our recently repaired and redesigned gardens.”

  “Impressive,” said one admiral who looked squat, wide-faced. He was Albert Tafford

  “Thank you, Overlord,” said a woman with a narrow face, her blonde hair braided tightly. “I’m happy to see the Glorious is being restored.” She was Oliva Scanlon

  “Pristine,” intoned a young looking black haired man. He was Frederick Pinson, and he was the Governor Dron definitely had to speak to. He was also the most materialistic and hedonistic - by reputation at least - and the one he dreaded visiting the most. “I knew meeting you wouldn’t be boring, Overlord.”

  Other overtures followed with carefully worded congratulations and introductions, but Dron watched the three he knew he needed most. He could watch the playback of the others later. Members of the Regent Galactic Board were watching as well, though they didn’t have permission to present themselves since it was a military meeting.

  “Thank you, all of you,” Dron said. “Your presence in this meeting is encouraging. The four admirals who have declined to appear have five days to present themselves before I order their execution. If they won’t fall in line, the Beast will see that their subordinate does so. He will do it in person and provide evidence that control of the entire Order of Eden fleet, and all Regent Galactic assets now rests with me.”

  The admirals and governors assembled were shocked to cautionary silence. “I’m starting to see the Admiral I expected to meet today.” A woman with brown hair and soft features said. Her eyes examined him, as though she - Admiral Mariel Cort - were peeling away his layers. He expected her to side with him immediately, especially since she thought Clark Patterson was only a Beast, perhaps important to infantry, but not capable of controlling the entire fleet. He had to lock her in, eliminate any doubt that she should follow the new military order.

  “I’m especially happy to see you here,” he told her. “Your work quelling the Green Court Uprisings are legendary. I’m going to need you now that your fleet has returned to the sector.”

  “It was only a matter of time before they were undone by infighting. I only pushed them along by isolating them, making sure they didn’t hear anything from the Rega Gain System or any other holdouts then thinking ahead of their strategies. Nothing that should impress you.” Her words were complimentary, but her eyes expressed boredom despite any smile she offered. The words coming out of her mouth were strung together in her mind many seconds before she finished saying them, and while she spoke she was already thinking of something else. “You don’t have to worry. Everyone who you see is completely behind you. Admiral Scanlon made sure. Between our fleets and the spies we have inserted, we have the entire Regent Galactic Board Of Directors in hand. You only had to remove the current Overlord and take your place. We know your record and your accomplishments.”

  “My colleague is over-simplifying the situation, Overlord,” Admiral Scanlon said. “It’s true, the Admiralty and the Governors are looking for unified leadership, a single vision to secure these sectors before we continue our expansion, but many people see you as an upstart. Eve has a fleet that rivals any one of ours and controls three solar systems directly. She has publicly stated her hesitation in accepting you as the Overlord and has gone further. She lets everyone know that, even if you are acceptable to her, her position is still higher than that of the Overlord.”

  “She is popular,” Governor Pinson said.

  Admiral Tafford added; “Eve has also aligned herself with Citadel, a group of outcasts from Earth who…”

  “I know who they are, thank you,” Dron said. “They do pose a problem, but I have a strategy that will tip the odds in our favour if things get complicated. I’ll be meeting Eve in person soon. Any problems will be rectified then. Soon we will be one force. One body with many limbs working together. Once every member of the board is killed, say, by the end of the day, and we replace them with our own qualified advisors from the military, we will be Eden Nation. All Regent Galactic and subsidiary assets will be nationalized. This was a plan Admiral Tafford and Governor Pinson devised months ago.”

  “How did you find out about it?” Tafford asked, astonished.

  “I have been planning this for years and years. That is what younger siblings do. We watch our older brothers and sisters venture into the wild, learn from their mistakes and then we combine their experiences with our ingenuity. I propose Unity. An organization without the corruption of the previous age.”

  Three of the seven holographic images were nodding before he finished speaking. “I don’t know how you got your information, but if this really is our plan going into motion, then yes. Absolutely yes,” Admiral Tafford said.

  “I’m with you, Overlord,” Governor Pinson said, taken aback completely.

  “Congratulations, Overlord,” Admiral Cort said, tying her brown hair in a ponytail. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll see that the board members in my care are executed immediately along with their immediate subordinates. I can’t wait to see the light shine on our new Eden Nation.”

  Admiral Scanlon didn’t look surprised by the turn in events at all. “This is an order I’ll be happy to follow, Overlord. Perhaps the board won't reform within weeks of its forced disbandment this time. This has been done before."

  “I will make sure your work isn't undone. If you have any questions or need more information, please send your requests privately. The details you’ll need about my plan for the next month are being sent to you now. Submit qualified officers to take the places of board members over the next three days. Dismissed.”

  “Nationalized? Sorry, Sir, I’ve never heard the word,” Lancet said.

  “It means that the government is taking direct ownership and control of an industry. In this case, the government is the military, and we’re taking everything that Regent Galactic owns, including Regent Galactic itself.” Dron turned to the Beast. “Begin your mission, Major. I expe
ct your ship to launch by the end of the day.”

  “Yes, Sir,” the Beast said. His semi-transparent, overlapping organic armour plates grinding as he saluted then departed.

  “He’s very stiff,” Lancet commented.

  “It’s the conditioning. He’ll relax into it over time,” Dron said. The next mission would tell that tale or put a permanent end to what Clark Patterson became.

  Thirty

  Minh-Chu Buu

  * * *

  The Pursuer rolled and swerved into place alongside an Order of Eden Battlecruiser. They were so close to its hull that Jake could swear he could feel it there, like someone standing too close to him. The shimmer of its shields distorted the view through the main left view screen. “Pound their shields, right here,” Minh-Chu said as he marked a section of shielding right in front of the large ship’s port side hangar bay. Then he returned to humming. Humming!

  He knew Minh-Chu had some idiosyncrasies, but that was not only new, but unnerving. “1812 Overture,” Liara said under her breath as she looked for a way into the enemy’s wireless network. “I’m not finding any chinks,” she announced. “Still trying.”

  Jake launched a volley of dumb-fire missiles as he watched the starboard guns of the Pursuer rake the section of shields Minh-Chu marked. “Broadcast static on all channels,” Jake said.

  The section of shielding that they were focusing on was taking heaps of damage, such focused fire wasn’t always possible, but at the range Minh-Chu held the Pursuer at - so close that they were almost making contact shield to shield and most of the small fleet that were after them couldn’t get a clean shot - it was extremely easy.