by S. H. Jucha
“I like it,” Renée announced definitively.
“Two years max, Mickey,” Alex said. “You’ve the use of every freighter that I can spare until the federacy fleet is dispatched. However, my approval is dependent on you having sufficient transport off Pimbor. Either the Earther Tridents or the Rêveur, with escort, must be on station.”
“Agreed,” Mickey replied, with a grin, and the Pims issued high-pitched squeaks.
As the group left the meeting, Bortoth said to Mickey, “Now, all we need to fully implement this project is for the captain to take the Pimborian dome.”
* * * * *
Jess hadn’t been in the field for many days, which had allowed him to concentrate on future plans. Prior to abandoning his role as Oforum’s protector, he’d spoken to Phette and Oforum.
Phette was reluctant to release Jess from his pledge to keep Oforum safe, but she had a different opinion.
At one point in the discussion, Oforum grew heated. Then she said, “Captain, you’ll excuse us, please. My mate and I have a few things to discuss.” As Jess turned away, she added, “And, Captain, you’re excused from duty as my protector. Pimbor needs its dome back sooner than later.”
At the next morning’s appointed hour, Jess shouldered his Loopah weapon and went in search of his assigned shuttle, only to discover that its four hunt teams had left a half hour earlier. It was Juliette who told him the traveler lifted early at Oforum’s request, and that a Dischnya had replaced him on Oforum’s team.
That’s when Jess had made use of the free time to survey the progress on Pimbor.
Mickey’s work area had grown to three times its original size and was now a fully enclosed structure with its own power and facilities.
The shadows numbered forty-two, and there was a line of waiting Pim volunteers.
The Dischnya had spread themselves out among the riders, and the rest of the protectors were combinations of Norsitchians and Sylians.
The death toll of the defenders was minimal. Several Sylians and one Norsitchian had given their lives to protect attacks against their riders. To date, not one Pim had been lost.
The planet was slowly being returned to the Pims.
“Check my thinking,” Jess said to an assembly of his dwindling group of veterans. They comprised Lucia, Tacnock, Sam, Kasie, and Homsaff. The Crocians were working full-time with Mickey’s engineering team, and Menous and Salsinona were engaged with their respective troops.
“The Colony has communicated every move we’ve made to their other domes and planets,” Jess said. “They know the weapons we use. They know we’ve made entry through the shuttle tubes.”
“They’re also aware that we know how to circumvent their lockout on the dome’s airlock,” Tacnock commented.
“Just as important, the Colony is aware that we’re gaining a deeper understanding of the console,” Kasie added. “We’ve permanently locked them out of non-alliance gates that lead to alliance domes.”
“What the Colony doesn’t know is what happened at the Norsitchian dome,” Lucia said. “They knew we were attempting to gain entry, which is when they sent the transport through the gate. They intended our destruction. Days later, when we entered the dome, it was empty. Why?”
“I would have expected them to have abandoned the dome before the transport arrived,” Tacnock replied. “Afterward, they would have expected the dome to have been destroyed. I suspect they wouldn’t have bothered to check the gate.”
“Then we locked them out,” Kasie added. “If a curious insectoid ever wondered about the connection to Norsitchia, the gate wouldn’t have responded.”
“But what would the Colony’s console display about that gate now?” Jess asked.
“I presume that’s rhetorical,” Kasie replied. “We’ve never been on the far end of a locked gate to be able to inspect the console.”
“This conversation is about taking the Pimborian dome,” Homsaff said. Originally, she’d wondered why Captain Cinders was celebrated in the eyes of the veterans as their assault commander. It was while listening to the strategies employed to gain entry to the domes and outmaneuver the Colony that she fully comprehended his value.
“Yes, it is,” Jess replied to Homsaff. “It’s time. The Pims, with their shadows, and the support troops are eliminating the Colony faster than they can breed. The Crocians need the domes to bring their engineers through, as they enlist. Mickey’s sent the first Omnian freighter to the outer moons, and it’s nearly full.”
“What’s the plan?” Lucia asked.
“If we approach the shuttle tubes, what will the Colony do?” Jess asked.
Lucia saw the gleam in Jess’s eyes, which said he knew the answer, but she chose to play along. “We’ll get a surprise package in the form of an exploding transport, which will detonate the ring,” she replied.
“Right,” Jess said, enthusiastically punctuating the air with a finger. “But what if the Colony didn’t have the ring?”
“You want to detonate the ring first,” Tacnock declared.
The veterans were silent as they considered the idea.
Homsaff linked to Esteban to learn the details of the Norsitchian dome encounter, specifically the arrival of the transport. She was impressed by Jess’s warning to all ships to evacuate, when he suspected the Colony’s treachery.
Unknown to each other, Lucia and Sam had linked independently through Esteban to Orbit, who’d studied the telemetry of the Norsitchian explosion and the dome’s subsequent reaction.
Esteban joined Homsaff and the ring of veterans. They were seated on crates under the open shelter in the compound. It had never been dismantled, although it was now unneeded. It was the captain’s favorite place to think and chat with the Pims and others.
“Orbit notes that the detonation of the ring at the Pimborian moon will result in a lesser power release than that of the combination of ring and transport at Norsitchia,” Esteban relayed. “Therefore, it follows that the dome will be undamaged by a surgical strike on the ring.”
There were quick glances by Jess, Tacnock, and Kasie at those possessing implants. They’d brought others into the discussion without invitation, but then again, it seemed to be the way with Omnians.
Homsaff didn’t understand the reason for the eyes that flashed her way, but Lucia and Sam did.
“Explain surgical,” Jess requested.
“Orbit estimates that a fighter, with sufficient velocity, can execute a strike against the ring’s power supply and be out of range before the detonation wave catches it,” Esteban relayed.
“The pilot would have to come across the moon’s surface to have an angle on either power supply,” Homsaff said, studying the imagery of the ring in her implant. “The pilot would have to execute a complicated maneuver to use velocity and positioning to clear the explosion.”
“I know just the pilot for the job,” Lucia said, with a grin.
“Okay, say we remove the ring,” Sam interjected. “What’s the Colony’s response?”
“We’ll have been reset to the Sylian situation, won’t we?” Tacnock replied. Looking at Homsaff, he added, “No ring, and all shuttle tubes occupied. The Colony holds the dome and will be prepared to defend it with massive numbers.”
“A fight,” Homsaff said, nodding her muzzle appreciatively and displaying her rows of sharp teeth in the evening’s dim light.
“That’s my thinking,” Jess said, acknowledging Homsaff’s summa
tion.
“You’re not planning a repeat of the Sylian engagement,” Kasie said. She wasn’t asking a question; she was telling Jess. Anger slipped past her gates, underlining her adamancy.
“Control, Kasie,” Jess reminded his twin, while the others dealt with the hot emotion that had swept through their minds.
“Sorry,” Kasie mumbled.
“Heat like a Dischnya,” Homsaff remarked, mentally tasting the feeling that she’d received. It was close to that of her own emotions, when she was younger. She wondered how the others felt about the sensation they’d received.
Jess patted Kasie’s knee in sympathy. “On Sylia, we worked with what we had and what we knew,” he said to her. “That’s not our present circumstances.” Turning to the others, he asked, “Suppose we were to take out a Colony shuttle?”
“By take out, do you mean detonate?” Lucia asked.
“I do,” Jess replied.
“The repercussions could vary,” Esteban said.
“Agreed, but what wouldn’t vary?” Jess pursued.
“The dome,” said Tacnock. “The dome protects itself. We could destroy the launch tube and maybe even a section of tunnel.”
“But the dome would seal the airlock entry hatches,” Kasie finished excitedly.
“Then what would the Colony do?” Homsaff asked.
“If the shuttle’s explosion didn’t decompress the tunnels,” Sam replied, “the Colony would be trying to anticipate whether we’d detonate the other shuttles. If the tunnels were decompressed by the first shuttle’s decimation, the Colony would probably abandon the dome.”
“Probably?” Homsaff queried.
“You can’t underestimate the Colony’s willingness to sacrifice their members to achieve a goal,” Tacnock explained.
“Either way, after we’ve taken out a shuttle, we’ll have access to the tunnels,” Jess said. “If we find the tube’s blast door operational, we send in the shadows. We send in enough of them to ensure the reds can’t target all of them.”
The group felt a mixture of relief and a small measure of pleasure sweep through their minds. It was a heady sensation. Jess grinned at his sister.
“I owed all of you for my previous error,” Kasie said.
“I much preferred your former emanation,” Homsaff said, with disappointment.
“No,” chorused the others.
“You’ll need non-denigrated DNA material at the dome’s entry lock,” Esteban pointed out. “I’ll ensure you have a fresh sample before you lift.”
“Thank you,” Jess said. “Whether the insectoids occupy only the dome or the dome and the tunnels, we’ll let the shadows lead. Then we’ll back them up.”
“Esteban,” Lucia said. “Please, have Mickey’s teams program the shadows we take prepared to target the reds first.” Then the SADE transferred the request to Miriam.
“That’s the plan,” Jess concluded.
“Not a bad one,” Sam remarked.
“It should greatly reduce the losses we suffered at Sylia,” Tacnock added.
“It’s the losses that hurt,” Kasie remarked, which the others, except for Jess, interpreted as a lament for their dead. Then she added, “I can’t seem to close my gates tightly enough to block out the mental screams of the dying.”
“I’m sorry, Kasie, I didn’t know you were hurt in that way,” Tacnock said gently. “You shouldn’t go into the dome with us.”
“Kasie didn’t know that would happen,” Jess said. “She found it out at Sylia. That’s why I’ve kept her off the hunting teams.”
“Did you feel it from the insectoids?” Lucia asked.
“Yes, from any sentient who’s dying near me,” Kasie said sadly, as she recalled the pain, anger, and remorse that had evaded her gates.
Esteban shared that critical piece of information with the SADEs and Pia Sabine.
Juliette reviewed her recordings of the Sylian dome encounter. Her sensors had recorded Kasie’s wincing, during the corridor fight. She’d not associated Kasie’s expressions with mental pain. It was only now, when she compared the visuals with the recordings of Kasie’s emanations, that she realized the correlation. She’d missed it, and her emotional algorithms underwent a subtle shift. The fundamental human emotion of regret was made clearer to her.
“Who’s the pilot you have in mind?” Jess asked, attempting to shift the subject to relieve the focus on his sister.
“Rear Admiral Franz Cohen,” Lucia announced proudly.
Jess blinked. “You sure we don’t need someone more junior in the command chain like a lieutenant?” he asked.
“The operations will require precision maneuvers,” Lucia explained. “The controller will execute the patterns, but the pilot has to input the requirements. The moon must be approached at a tangent and the pass completed before the insectoids realize they’re about to lose their ring. When the pilot takes out the shuttle, the traveler has to be nose down to fire into the tube. He or she will have to reverse and slide off to the side to clear the blast that will be focused upward by the tube.”
“And this admiral’s the best?” Jess inquired.
“He’s the fleet’s fighter commander, and he’s the best,” Lucia replied.
“I’d like to meet him,” Jess said.
* * * * *
The next day, Jess intended to clean up, dress, and meet the admiral aboard the Freedom in the senior officer’s well-furnished cabin or suite. He didn’t expect to dress, get a meal, and find the admiral drop beside him at the table.
“Greetings, Captain,” Franz said.
Examining the insignias, the heavy-worlder body, the bright smile, and the extended hand, Jess dropped his utensil, shook the man’s hand, and replied, “Admiral Cohen.”
“Morning, Lucia,” Franz said, smiling at an old comrade.
“You could have sent a warning to me or the SADEs,” Lucia remarked. “The captain doesn’t have an implant to notify him of your arrival.”
“What? You haven’t corrected that yet?” Franz asked, in mock seriousness. When Lucia and Jess frowned at him, he said, “Sorry, tasteless tease. Captain, I hear you need an experienced fighter pilot.”
When Jess hesitated to reply, Lucia took the opportunity to demonstrate her displeasure with Franz’s start of this encounter. “Is Alex aware of your intention to volunteer for this duty, Franz?” she asked.
“Now I have to volunteer to be accepted?” Franz asked in surprise. It was dawning on him how much he’d misstepped with the captain, who wasn’t in the fleet’s chain of command. Jess was an allied commander.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Lucia said, pushing the issue.
“Is Alex ever unaware of what any one of us is ever doing or intending to do?” Franz replied, When Lucia scowled at his evasive answer, he added, “My partner objected and made her opinion widely known.”
Jess chuckled, and Franz smiled good-naturedly at having outed himself. It broke the ice between the two men, and Lucia relaxed.
While Jess outlined the plan, his food went cold.
Franz linked to Orbit to review the details of the dome, the tunnels, the tubes, and the ring.
Orbit highlighted the power supply units on opposite sides of the ring.
“Any particular shuttle you want removed?” Franz asked, studying the telemetry on the Pimborian dome.
“I can’t see what you’re looking at, Admiral,” Jess replied. “Select one that’s closest to the connecting ring.”
“There are two that are equidistant from the circular structure that’s closest to the dome,” Franz countered.
Jess’s tray was slid aside, and a portable holo-vid set on the table. He looked up to see Juliette’s smiling face. “Timely, as usual,” Jess commented. “Juliette, opportune attack time on the ring, with starlight behind the admiral, preferably morning hours,” he requested.
Juliette ran the calculations, confirming them with Orbit, and she added a vector across the moon’s surface to s
trike the ring’s right-side power supply. Franz was delivered the same information.
Jess studied the vector. It approached the dome from the shuttle side, which left the admiral’s fighter shooting off in space. “We need a second traveler,” he said.
“We thought as much, Captain,” Juliette said, which silenced Franz.
“Lucia, Juliette, please coordinate with Lieutenant Sharon Reems to destroy shuttle one immediately after the ring’s detonation,” Jess requested.
“There isn’t a Sharon Reems in our fleet,” Franz pointed out.
“She’s an Earther pilot,” Jess replied. “Omnians speak about fortune. In this case, as a Pyrean, I would say that Sharon is my good-luck pilot.”
Juliette removed the holo-vid and replaced the tray.
“Thank you,” Jess said to Juliette.
“Always a pleasure, Captain,” Juliette replied. To Franz, she added, “When dealing with our allies, Admiral, it pays to be prepared.”
Lucia covered her mouth, but it didn’t hide her grin.
“Rebuked by a SADE,” Franz said, “and probably rightfully so.”
“Probably?” Lucia queried.
Franz shrugged, as he rose from the table. “Let me know when you need me, Captain,” he said, clapping a hand on Jess’s shoulder before he strode off.
Jess pushed a bite of cold food around on his plate, and Lucia snatched the tray from him. She recycled the plate and the food, ordered the same meal, and returned with hot food.
“Eat. Then we’ll talk,” Lucia ordered.
Jess grinned and dug into his food. In no time, he finished his meal and sat back to enjoy hot thé. As the days and nights grew colder, Jess had developed a taste for the Omnians’ favorite drink.
“What bothered you about your conversation with the admiral?” Lucia asked. She had an inkling of the problem, but she needed confirmation.
“You were raised in a society with implants,” Jess said, studying his mug. “As a child, you expected to have an implant one day. To Pyreans ... to me ... implants are foreign tech.”
