by Adam Gaffen
“No; I simply want to be part of something with loftier goals than survival and acquiring power.”
“Fair enough. Whoops, coming up on the landing. Hold on.”
DAVIE HAD RELINQUISHED the floor of CCIC to McKnight after Kendra’s message came in, followed by the compressed recording from Stone’s implant of her interactions with Phalkon. “This is going to take me a while to review. Colonel, you’re in charge.”
“Admiral.”
And now she was dealing with it all. No problem; she was trained for it.
“Colonel, we’re having problems with recovery,” said Spurgeon.
“What do you mean?”
“With the gravitic sensors down, we’re back to radar and lidar for primaries and there’s simply too much junk, too much clutter, for us to get any sort of good read on the debris. I can’t guide anyone back into the bay; frankly, I don’t even want to open the bay doors.”
“Anyone in dire straits?”
“No, Colonel, but the Wolves are en route to assist Endeavour, and we’ll need to get them into the bay.”
“Do what you can to expedite recovery. Diana.”
“Colonel?”
“Status on gravitic sensors?”
“Their circuitry was damaged by the blast, Colonel, and will need to be physically replaced.”
“Can you work around it? Backdoor anything?”
“No, Colonel.”
“We’re going to need them to clear out the debris field.”
“I am aware, Colonel.” Diana’s voice was decidedly cool. “As soon as it is possible to do so the sensors will be repaired.”
“Thank you, Diana. Glen, you’re going to have to do the best you can with what you’ve got. Link the sensors from the ships to our systems, maybe you can improve the situation that way.”
“On it.”
IN A HALF-HOUR EVERYTHING was settled.
It was remarkably simple, and civil.
“I agreed to surrender, and so I shall,” said Phalkon. “I also said I would agree to your terms; I appreciate they aren’t particularly onerous.”
“I want a reformed Luna, not a divided one,” Newling said. “Punishing the former government for doing no more than they were permitted under their laws would be destructive, and while I don’t agree with those laws, well. That’s why we’ve changed the government.”
“Indeed. I can understand your desire to do so. The lengths to which the former Empress would go to preserve her power...” Phalkon didn’t complete the sentence, nor did she have to. Now for the final details.
“Is everything ready?”
Autumn nodded. “I managed to pull together a video crew, Mike’s got them tied into the Q-Net so at least it will be going live to the Federation.”
“Nicely done!” Kendra looked around. There were the cameras; good, it looked like they were covering all the angles. She noted the lighting, almost absent-mindedly, and then shrugged. It was an office, after all, not a studio, so what could she expect? At least the video crew had a few lights of their own. It all seemed to be going smoothly, though she did note most of the people working looked to be a squad of Marines.
“How are your people doing?”
“Recovering,” Newling said. “The replicators are working overtime to produce enough acetylcholine for our medical people, then we’re planning to get them taking care of the worst off.”
“Then let’s get this out of the way so you can get back to leading. Oh, I’ve gotten confirmation from our forces in Artemis.”
“Yes?”
“All resistance has ceased; the Union troops have laid down their arms.”
“I guess we’ve actually done it?” Autumn’s voice was equal parts joy and disbelief.
“We have. You have, Autumn. This was your dream, after all; we simply helped a bit, here and there.”
“You’ve done more than that, Kendra,” laughed Newling, relief falling from her in waves. “But yes. Let’s make it official.”
With a bit of chivvying everyone was in place. Autumn’s desk had been brought out and she stood behind it. Kendra, Aiyana, and Stone were to Newling’s right, while Nicole, Taylor, and Mac were on her left. Phalkon stood opposite Nicole against the table, flanked a Marine with their rifles slung on either side as a ceremonial guard.
The printed merger agreement, ceding control of Luna to Newling’s organization, rested between them, ready to be signed.
“Let’s get this done,” Autumn said.
“Going live in 3, 2, 1,” said one of the crew.
That was Kendra’s cue.
“Hello. This is a historic day. Today the two factions who have struggled over the future of Luna have come together to settle their differences and unite. Autumn Newling, leader of Free Luna, and Tal Phalkon, First Councilor of the Union of Artemis, will now make the agreement official. Councilor?”
Phalkon picked up a finger prick and poked the ball of her thumb. She smeared the blood with her index finger, then applied her thumb to the permaplast beside her name with a wide smile.
“On behalf of the people and government of the Union of Artemis, I am pleased to be part of this historic agreement, which determines the future for all citizens of Luna.”
She stepped back from the table.
Autumn took her finger prick and imitated Phalkon’s actions.
“As the chosen representative of Free Luna, I embrace this opportunity to chart a course for Luna.”
She stepped back, beaming.
Phalkon’s hand whipped out and grabbed the sidearm of the Marine to her left. It was a standard issue flechette gun, manufactured on Earth but copied widely through the System. It was simple to use: hold the trigger and it would fire until the magazine was exhausted. She flicked off the safety even as she took hold with her right hand and targeted Autumn.
The thwip of the flechettes rang loudly in Cass’s ears, propelling her backwards in her memories. She leapt to her left and tackled Kendra, flattening her wife below the table’s edge.
Stone’s reaction was to leap left as well, aiming to bring Autumn down out of the line of fire, but even her reflexes weren’t sufficient. The needles embedded themselves across Autumn, upwards from her right hip through her abdomen to her left shoulder. Before Stone’s outstretched hand reached her she was falling.
Phalkon brought her aim down and continued across towards Nicole. A single dart sank into her side but then Taylor was there, interceding his body between her and Phalkon. Needle after needle plunged into him but he didn’t let go, didn’t shift his position. The deadly line moved on.
The Marines started to react but they needed a fraction of a second to turn; in that gap the needles reached Mac. She wasn’t a primary target, though, and the first had barely impacted when Phalkon swung the gun back to her left, searching for Newling again. Another line traced across Taylor’s collapsing body, but then there were no more targets and the Marines were taking her down. A final wrench of her hand and she brought the muzzle back toward herself, across the Marine on her left, tattooing her face. Then the last darts found their home in Phalkon’s skull and she fell.
“COLONEL!”
“I’m right here, O’Toole. What?”
“There’s a huge return on radar.”
“Define huge.”
“Four hundred meters.”
McKnight blanched. “Where?”
He highlighted it in the holotank.
“That’s less than a thousand klicks away!”
The object was plunging towards them out of a cloud of debris, with a smaller cloud of chunks blasted off the hull tracking with it.
“Main weapons, fire as you bear! Bring the shields up to full! Sound collision alarm!”
“Firing!” said O’Toole.
“Gravitic shields off-line, power’s exhausted!”
The Miller had been damaged by the laser fire from Njord, as well as the energy torpedoes from Defender 2 and the precision attacks from the Dire
wolves. All the offense had done, though, was knock out three of the six externally mounted engine pods, imbalancing the vessel and imparting a tumbling spin to its path. It was this erratic motion which had spoofed the radar and lidar. The Miller had been picked up, repeatedly, by both systems, and its path projected. Most of the tracks had seemed destined to miss Njord by a wide margin, and these tracks were filed as ‘harmless’ and given a low priority tasking.
The tracks which seemed to intersect Njord had a higher tasking and were updated frequently, and here the tumble struck again. Depending on the orientation and specific impulse at the time of the latest scan the tracks were recomputed, and if they were deemed ‘safe’ they, too, were dropped into a lower tasking.
“Contact imminent! Section One Oh Five is going to take the brunt of it!” yelled Colona over the alarms.
“All hands brace for impact!” McKnight managed to broadcast.
Then the Miller was there.
The Miller weighed roughly 100,000 tonnes, give or take a few thousand, and was moving at 200 KPS relative to Njord. The hull crumpled and shredded itself as it tore through the skin of the habitat, battering aside bulkheads and structural framework as easily as scissors through tissue paper. Finally, nearly five hundred meters in, its momentum was exhausted. Then the magic of kinetic energy took over.
The resulting explosion was a mind-mangling cacophony of light and the equivalent of nearly 5,000 tonnes of TNT. Burning durasteel, riding a wave of vaporized volatiles, burst outward. The force initially took the path of least resistance, back through the hole the Miller had created, but the channel wasn’t wide enough to handle the pressure and it soon expanded spherically. The oxygen in the atmosphere of the habitat fed the explosion.
The bottom third of Njord was severed from the upper portion in less than five seconds.
The impact rang the entire structure like a bell, vibrating the durasteel and CeeSea and shaking parts which were never designed for this. Equipment came loose, sliding across the decking and smashing into the opposite bulkhead, then sliding back to the opposite bulkhead. Again and again and again.
Power failed all over the station as the reactors and plants went into automatic shutdown, and with power went the gravity. Emergency batteries kicked in almost instantly and restored dim lights, maintained the environmental systems which still functioned, and partial gravity.
“Report!” choked McKnight. She couldn’t see anything, probably from the feedback which had blown the holotank projector to splinters, but she was up and functioning.
More or less.
It didn’t seem anyone else was. Under the groans of the tortured structure she could hear other groans from her staff, but frighteningly few.
“McKnight!”
She turned towards the voice – pointlessly, she realized.
“Over here!”
She heard movement and took the opportunity to check her ‘plant, only to be stunned. It wasn’t working!
Her shock must have shown on her face, as the voice, which she now recognized as Whitmore, said, “The Q-Net’s down again, all comms are down too. Are you hurt?”
“I can’t see,” McKnight admitted. “I think it’s temporary.”
“Don’t move,” Whitmore ordered, still picking her way across. “There’s debris all over. Diana.”
No response.
“Diana!” Whitmore repeated the call, louder, but still no response.
“Maeve Wept. We’re on our own. I’m going to see who’s still functioning.”
A louder groan penetrated the background noise from the area of Colona’s station.
“Hold on!” Whitmore shouted, leaping to the source. “Court, can you hear me?”
The defensive specialist opened her eyes. “I hear you fine.”
“Good. Crap. Okay, this is going to hurt,” Whitmore said, looking over the situation. The console at which Courtney usually sat was now on her middle, pinning her to the deck. “I’m going to lift it off you; can you shimmy to one side?”
“I can try.”
“Good. I’ll get you out of there.”
McKnight had shuffled forward to where the central tank ought to be. There were physical controls to activate an interface with Diana if she could only reach them. She reached out her hands and found the panel, moved across and found the correct control and activated it.
“Diana.”
“You have activated the voice interface control for Alpha AI unit Delta One Alpha November Alpha. State the nature of your request.”
“Diana?”
“Your request could not be processed. Clarify your request.”
“Admiral Whitmore! We’ve got another problem!”
“Your request could not be processed. Clarify your request.”
CHAPTER TWLEVE
Tycho Under; Habitat Njord
Stardate 12009.14
Urgent voices rang through the compartment.
“Hostile is down!”
“We need medics over here!”
“I’m okay,” Kendra said from under Cass. “Let me up.”
Cass shifted enough so Kendra could lever herself upright and take in the scene behind the desk.
“Autumn, blast you, hang on,” Stone could be heard saying. Her leap had brought Autumn into her saving arms a fraction of a second late, but she’d still pulled her down to the deck before Phalkon’s second sweep could catch her again. Now she was holding the stricken revolutionary’s head on her lap and trying to keep her awake.
“Might not have a choice, Chief,” the younger woman said. There was a nasty burbling sound when she breathed, suggesting at least one puncture to her lungs and perhaps more.
“There’s always a choice,” Stone insisted. “At least whether you fight or not, and you’ve always fought.”
“When do I get a day off, then?” The joke was weak but at least it was a joke.
“Just as soon as I do, lass.”
A meter away Crozier had wrapped Taylor in her arms and was sobbing. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful, until Kendra looked at his back. Two lines of red blotches crossed his body where the darts penetrated.
Cass rose to peek over the desk, then stood fully.
“Kendra.”
She looked up at her wife.
“Phalkon’s dead and the Marines are clearing the room.”
Kendra was about to reply but a muttered curse captured her attention and she turned to look.
“Miserable goddamn stupid bitch, she’d lost, why did she have to do this, what a complete knobhead wazzock, son of a bitch this hurts!”
“Mac?”
“Waste of oxygen tosspot, oh, what?”
Mac was still standing, though she was clutching her side.
“Did you get hit, Kendra, I hope not, God, this is horrible, I wonder why she did it, maybe she was just being a sore loser but why wait until after the surrender was signed, and hey where are the damn medics?”
“I’m sure they’re coming, Mac. Chief?”
“She’s hanging on, but I don’t know how,” Stone said. “Less blood than I’d expect, too.”
Kendra shuffled over to take Autumn’s hand. “Hey, Autumn?”
One eye half-opened. “Kendra.”
“You did it.”
“Huh?”
“It’s official. The surrender, I mean.”
That elicited a weak laugh. “Not much of a surrender.”
“Still binding.”
“Suppose so.” Her eye closed. “Don’t worry; not going away. Just tired.”
Kendra tried to release her hand, but Autumn gripped it.
“Not yet. Kendra, if I die, Nicole takes over.”
“You’re not going to –”
“Don’t lie, Kendra; you’re no good at it. Not planning to die, but. Has to be a clear succession or everything –” She stopped to draw breath. “Everything will be for nothing.”
“I’ll make sure, Autumn.”
“Thanks
. Can’t let. Every death. Be. In vain.”
Cass had moved to Nicole while Kendra talked with Autumn. She didn’t say anything; instead, she sat quietly next to Nicole and leaned against her, letting her know in the most certain manner she wasn’t alone in her grief.
“He didn’t have to do any of this,” Nicole finally gasped. “I tried to keep him safe, I tried to keep him on Artemis.”
“I know,” Cass assured her. “He knew, too. He was your family, as much as Karolina, and he loved you.”
Nicole turned, releasing her hold on Taylor’s body, and allowed Cass to pull her into a hug. She sat, rocking and crying, grieving for the loss of her friend.
“Where do you need a medic?”
“Kidwell!” said Stone, recognizing the voice. “Over here!”
The Marine came around and took one look at the scene.
“I need you all to clear out, give me room, and get me a proper doctor!”
“I’ll go,” said Stone.
“No,” Kendra insisted. “You stay with Autumn. I’ll find more help. Mac.”
“Huh?”
She gestured at Mac’s face, even paler than usual. “Sit down before you fall over.”
“I’m sort of feeling not bad,” Mac began.
“It’s shock. Sit.”
“You’re the boss.”
Kendra grabbed the agreement and brought it to Mac. “Guard this. Until we get this off-planet, it’s the only proof we have of, what? Why are you waving your hands?”
“Cameras?” said Mac.
Kendra, feeling foolish, looked. “Right. Forgot about those. Still transmitting?”
The tech nodded. “And recording. We can get a close-up of the document if you think it would help.”
“Do it. I’ve got to get more help.”
Mike.
Admiral Cassidy.
Where’s the nearest doctor? We need more help.
I have already alerted the closest medical facility. A full team is on the way.
Good thinking, Mike. Glad to have you back.
Thank you. Admiral. I have a concern.
