by Mark Wandrey
“Makes sense. But what does that tell us?”
“That the Concordia most likely build a lot of shit from top to bottom in one facility. It’s a huge factory where they make everything right on the spot and incorporate parts as they’re made instead of assembling piecemeal.” Pip shrugged. “Like Ted said, something is wrong with the whole process.”
“It’s a convincing argument, but it doesn’t get us any closer to making a hundred shock rifles.” Pip nodded and scratched his chin. Why hadn’t she noticed he had a little bit of beard growing there?
“You did a good job of deflecting me,” he said, fixing her with one dark eye.
“Huh? About what?”
“Your being in love with Aaron.”
“Damn it, Pip! I have a nice relationship with a man who loves me, not one with the man fucking that little bitch Mandi.”
“Is that what’s getting under your skin? They only went out for a few days.”
“Days? I didn’t know that.” She looked at him, and he nodded in confirmation. “When did it end?”
“A week or so ago. They had a rather public falling out, something about her playing grab-ass with another Chosen.”
“I could have warned him about that,” Minu mumbled. Her communicator rang, and she answered. “Chosen Alma.”
“Minu, this is Dram.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Can you meet me in my topside office this morning? No big hurry. Sometime after you get to your lab?”
“I’m in the lab now.”
“Eh? Oh, you got some parts, didn’t you? Okay, as soon as you can get here.” He cut the connection without waiting for confirmation. When the Second Among the Chosen summoned you, it wasn’t a request.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. When the team comes in, I want their efforts split between the damn computer problem and assembly.”
“You want to start the assembly run now?”
“Sure, might as well.” She got up and headed for the door.
“Without the computers, we’re just wasting our time.”
“No, we’re keeping busy. Besides, we’ll get this licked sooner or later.”
“You seem awfully certain.”
“Comes with the stars.” Pip snorted, and she headed out the door.
* * *
“Thanks for coming so quickly.” Minu sat in the office and glanced out the window at the rising sun. Summer was quickly approaching, and at eight, the sun was already well up. She admired his office; it was much nicer than the one he’d occupied when he was the scout commander. A corner office on the top floor of the Steven’s Pass facility, it overlooked the courtyard where the Portal was located.
“No problem, sir.” He offered her a drink, and she took some coffee. She’d acquired a taste for the bitter drink after many weeks of long hours.
“You’ve had a month; how are you coming?” Dram was never one to beat around the Kloth. Normally his directness was something she admired. Today, not so much.
“The components we received today are a big piece of the puzzle.” She looked at him and could tell that her non-explanation wasn’t going to be enough. “We’re stuck on the computers.”
“No chance of fabricating something?”
“I have them working on it, but Pip doesn’t believe it’s possible.”
“If Pipson doesn’t think so, you have a problem.”
“I agree. He’s discreetly asked several outside people to confer on the matter, in complete confidentiality, of course. His sources universally concur.”
Dram nodded and picked up a tablet. He read something, then shook his head, holding out the computer and looking at the shock rifle. “Something so ubiquitous. Can’t we take it apart and rebuild it?”
“I wish we could. These computers are one-piece units, almost grown. While Pip maintains we could interface with one of them, which is what we did during development, it’s not practical for the production weapons. The data communication between computer and gun is two-way and extraordinarily fast. Wireless won’t work, it must be a hard link. The user would have a weapon tethered to him via the control computer. That negates a good deal of the concept of the weapon.”
“Your infantry weapon concept, right? Has the training program started?”
“I’ve been working with twenty scout teams, about a hundred strong. We haven’t made a lot of progress because we only have five prototypes. They’re bigger than the beamcaster and have less mobility because of the improvised parts. For a lot of the drills, I have them using wooden mock ups.”
“Whatever works. Look, Minu, I’ve given this a high priority because I think we’re at a flash point. Something is going to happen.”
“What do you think?”
“Either the Rasa are going to get tired of mixing it up with us and find another young species to give a hard time to, or it’ll get a lot worse.”
“I don’t know how it can get worse, unless they come after us here on Bellatrix.” Dram looked at her. “You really think that’s a danger? As clients of the Tog, we’re protected, aren’t we?”
“Everyone who studies The Law thinks we’re safe, but my instincts disagree. The Rasa are doing everything they can to get at us. That’s why I’ve gone out of my way to support you. That, and you have a great deal of support from the rank and file Chosen. You’re making a real impression.”
“I’m honored.”
“You’re probably one of the smartest, most creative Chosen to come aboard in more than twenty years.”
“People keep saying that. I’m just another Chosen.”
“A Chosen who gets things done, no matter the difficulty.”
“My team deserves most of the credit.”
“Modest too.” Minu knew she was blushing. The communicator on his desk went off, and he answered. ‘‘Chosen Dram.”
“Sir, a scout team just came in.”
“Fine Alex, but I’m in a meeting.”
“Sir, I’m sorry sir, you said to call no matter what if there was an incident.”
Dram sat up straight and leaned toward the device. “Yes, go ahead?”
“This scout team has been in a protracted battle with the Rasa.”
“Details, quickly.” Minu leaned closer to listen. Dram didn’t attempt to make the conversation private; this concerned all of them.
“The scout team says they encountered a Rasa base and were attacked. They responded with force.”
“What happened Alex?”
“Our team appears to have wiped them out.”
Minu closed her eyes and looked down. If there was a flash point in this conflict, they’d just reached it.
* * * * *
Part IV
Chapter 1
June 23rd, 518 AE
Former Rasa Colony Site, Planet GAX8773, Galactic Frontier
Var’at stood on the flier with the other military leaders of his sub-command. The vehicle hovered a few hundred meters over the former settlement and, even at this altitude, the acrid smell of smoke from burned buildings and the stench of scorched bodies reached his scent receptors. His team had found the carnage below, so it was his duty to inform the high command of the massacre.
“You are certain the humans are responsible?”
It wasn’t the first time the high commander had asked that question. Var’at’s answer did not waiver. “We found ample evidence, high commander, including a tool manufactured by the humans’ primitive industry.”
The high commander hissed low and long, a sign of resignation and concern. “We brought this on ourselves, but there can be only be one response.” Another pair of fliers zoomed past, medical teams still searching for survivors. Var’at knew there was precious little hope. The settlement was small, and his team had already performed a thorough search. The humans were as thorough as they were ingenious. “We will seek a vendetta from the council. This slaughter was not sanctioned, and I have confirmed through the nest leaders that no action was purs
ued through the council.”
“Finding these humans may prove difficult,” one of the other leaders said, “their Tog masters shield them carefully.”
“Var’at,” the high commander addressed him. He bowed his head and lowered his crest. “I charge you with locating the humans’ lair. You have complete authority in this matter. You are to spare no expense.”
“It shall be done. Then it is war?” Var’at asked.
“As much as we are allowed.”
“I wish to lead it.” The high commander cast an eye toward Var’at, who forced himself not to assume the posture of respect. The other leaders hissed their displeasure at his audacity. Trying to assert any sort of dominance was a very dangerous thing. He felt his crest rise. It still felt strange when it rose, the scar tissue from the wound the human inflicted had changed things. A lot of things. “I feel it is my right.”
“Do you, scout leader?”
“Yes!” he hissed with conviction.
“Then you will join me before the Concordian Council and help me plead this case.”
“It will be as you say, high commander.” The high commander’s crest stood higher than his, but Var’at began to think his might be higher, some day. The communicator hissed, and Var’at answered. He listened for a minute before speaking again. “One of the teams found a small group of survivors. They hid under a pile of dead, pretending to be so themselves.”
“Then they will travel with us, as well, once we know the fullness of the story.”
“It will be as you say, high commander.” Var’at stood respectfully behind the high commanders of his species and thought about what was to come. Battle, most certainly. Glory, he hoped. Death, it was possible, but such was the way of things.
* * *
June 22nd, 518 AE
Council Chambers, Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
Minu followed Dram to the Chosen council chamber as he’d requested. It was the first time she’d ever sat on this side of the semicircular table. Her seat was that of an adjutant to Dram, though it wasn’t really her position. As a member of command, she belonged under the First, or she might have had a reason to sit behind Jasmine who now led Science. She didn’t argue, as several watched Dram guide her to her seat. “Why do you want me here?” she’d asked as they approached the chamber.
“This is developing into the test of our time,” he’d said, “and like it or not, you’re center stage. You deserve to be here.”
Inside the chamber, the Leadership Council took their places. Once the seat scraping and throat clearing was over the other door opened, and the scout commander entered. Minu hissed when she saw Ivan Malovich step in, followed by two of his team members. He still wore his field jumpsuit, smeared with dirt and blood. Never one to follow, he spoke up immediately. “Why is this necessary?” he said before sitting.
“It is necessary, because I say it is,” Dram said in his deep baritone. “Sit down, Chosen.” Ivan’s eyes flashed as he complied.
“We have your debriefing,” Jacob spoke up. “Now, I believe we need to hear your story from your mouth.”
“We did what the situation called for,” Ivan said, already bristling. “We came under fire, and we retaliated. It wasn’t against the ROE.” He scanned the crowd for sympathetic faces but found few. What he did find was Minu’s face staring back at him. At first he grinned evilly, but when he realized she was sitting behind Dram, his smile suffered a premature death.
“Maybe you’d like to tell us the entire story so we can make our own determinations?” Ivan turned to Jacob, and Minu saw his worry. He’d grown up privileged, and as the eldest son of one of the most powerful men on Bellatrix, he’d long used intimidation as a weapon. But here he was, disarmed, defending himself. “Start from the beginning, Chosen Malovich.”
“We left the portal on GAX8773 at the designated launch time. We found the area undisturbed and spread out on a basic perimeter search. One of the recon scouts found the remnants of a distribution center, so we relocated our operations center there. We found some evidence of foraging, but we couldn’t tell how recently it had been done. I sent out a picket patrol and started evaluating the available salvage. Before planetary night, the enemy engaged my picket with light arms fire. There were two casualties, no dead. We pursued immediately in force.”
“You didn’t send recon to evaluate the situation?” Dram asked.
“It appeared to be a Rasa harassment attack.”
“Appeared?” Jacob asked.
“Yes…sir.” He seemed to offer the ‘sir’ as an afterthought. Minu never ceased to be amazed by the gall of the Malovichs. Ivan wore four stars now, like her. They’d promoted him only weeks after she was. She’d wondered how many people Viktor Malovich had threatened to make that happen. “I’ve led units who’ve been engaged in Rasa harassment attacks several times; they’re predictable.”
“Proceed,” Jacob instructed.
For more than an hour Ivan explained the events of the previous day, from the first tentative probe of the Rasa, to his team’s discovery of their base. The Chosen had deployed as Minu had trained them, using higher ground to employ their ultra-powerful beamcasters to best effect. And then his recon scouts had questioned his decision. The Rasa camp didn’t seem like a combat or salvage operation. There were little or no defenses and no signs of heavy equipment. Ivan saw it as an opportunity. He ordered the attack. Armed with six beamcasters, the Chosen struck with decisive force.
“What did you find when you won the day?” Dram asked.
“There was a small cache of technology and several research labs.”
“Soldiers?”
“We didn’t find any front-line soldiers, those with armor and flechette machine guns.”
“But you attacked anyway?” Jacob asked.
“We had an ideal opportunity to take the fight to them.”
“Taking the fight to them wasn’t your job,” Dram reminded him. Ivan stared at him. “Didn’t anything strike you as unusual about their camp? The lack of fortifications and shields, the things you’d expect to find at a forward scout base?”
“They made a mistake, and we held them accountable,” Ivan said defiantly.
Minu looked at the images bought back by Ivan and his scouts, pictures taken from the ‘base,’ showing what had happened there. Just as Dram said, she didn’t see any of the things you’d expect to see. She saw sleeping billets, food preparation areas, open equipment storage, and exposed research positions, but nothing for defense. “Didn’t the lack of firepower surprise you?” she spoke up before she could stop herself.
“What right do you have to question me?”
“Answer her!” Dram snapped with such venom that Minu almost jumped. Ivan did.
“Surprised? No. They were foolish to be so poorly defended.”
“That’s because it wasn’t a salvage base,” she said with a growl.
“How would you know?”
“Because I can use my powers of observation. Look at image 111a and image 115b. Both show civilian Rasa. I know, because there was a civilian on the team I took out on GBX49881. He was some sort of technician, a noncombatant. He was unarmed.”
“So?”
“Look at the images. I challenge you to find any enemy combatants. Look at images 221a through 221x. They show immature or female Rasa. All Rasa we’ve engaged were male, we’re certain of that. Why were there females and children there?” Ivan shrugged. “I’ll tell you why, because you just killed a village full of civilians!” There were gasps around the room as the council members scrambled to look at the images she’d called out. She glanced around. One by one, the Chosen were seeing what she’d already spotted.
“That world is on the frontier,” Jacob pointed out, “they must have been squatting.” Ivan nodded, his face ashen. He looked desperate, but still defiant. Had the bastard known he was killing helpless beings?
“While that might be the case,” Minu said, “no formal notice was
filed with the Concordia. You can’t go around killing squatters, especially if they’re non-combatants! At the least, it’s an act of war; at the worst, a war crime! What have you done?!”
“I have done my duty!” Ivan cried and pounded the table. “No mere woman should dare to question me!”
“Shut up,” Jacob said, a look of pity on his face.
“She has no right!”
“She’s doing her job,” Dram said. “Something you didn’t. Slaughter of innocents? Women and children?”
“They are alien creatures! They slaughtered and ate one of her team last year!”
“And we killed them for it,” Minu pointed out, “but we didn’t go to their planet and kill their children in retaliation.”
Ivan pointed at her and started screaming vulgarities in his native Rusk. Dram shouted him down. “Maybe you’d better not dig yourself in any deeper. I recommend Chosen Malovich be held over for a general inquiry of the council.”
“Agreed,” they said one after another. Ivan was so incoherent with rage they almost had to drag him from the room. If it had been anyone else, Minu would’ve felt pity. Since it was Ivan, she should have felt glee. Instead, she felt fear.
Once he was gone, the council room filled with loud conversation. Dram turned to her. “What kind of fallout can we expect?”
