by Matt Levin
Russ passed a small common area where two of his staff members were lounging, reviewing a large set of datapads. He cleared his throat and their faces shot up. Both scrambled to their feet and saluted. “Sir,” the two said in unison. Russ returned the salute and pressed forward. Gotta keep discipline up, he thought.
He got to the conference room to see Isadora already at the head of the table, halfway through a mug of coffee, with a series of datapads splayed out in front of her. She looked up and gave him a tired grin. “Good morning. It’s been forever.”
“Good morning, ma’am,” Russ nodded, sitting down in one of the side chairs.
“Did you...forget something, last night?” Isadora asked.
“Not quite, ma’am,” Russ chuckled. “There are other issues related to our future Calimor settlement we need to discuss. I wasn’t sure if it would have been productive to go into full detail last night.”
“Of course,” Isadora said. Russ might’ve just been imagining it, but he thought he saw a look of gratitude flicker across her face. “What’s on your mind?”
Russ cleared his throat. “Our Calimor settlement will still be in great danger, even if it turns profitable. All the reports suggest that fighting between the Junta and the Horde on Calimor has gotten fiercer in recent months, and that’s not even getting into the potential threat from the Union.”
Isadora arched an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting the Union might attack our settlement?”
“I’m suggesting that we can’t rule out the possibility,” Russ said, thinking back to the interview with Owen Yorteb he had fallen asleep watching. “It’s clear their people aren’t happy we’re here. And the prime minister told us explicitly she’s committed to upholding the will of the electorate. Nothing that’s happened so far has convinced me they won’t attack us at some point.”
Isadora shook her head and grinned. “Worst-case scenarios and all that, I assume.”
“Respectfully, that’s the job description.”
“I understand. Well, if the Union ever wanted to attack our Calimor settlement, I don’t know what we could do about it. We don’t have an army, much less a fleet.”
“That’s true. But I have an idea that could at least give us a fighting chance. Assuming they don’t just nuke us from orbit, which they supposedly say they won’t.” Russ decided against sharing his opinion on the sincerity of the Union military’s rules of engagement.
Isadora took another sip of coffee, and then crossed her fingers over her cup. Russ had learned that crossing her fingers was one of her nonverbal cues, meaning yes, go on.
“In addition to cataloging for vital skill sets, I’ve asked Vincent to cross-list for military experience,” Russ said. “We think we’ve identified a sub-population of possible colonists who have served in the EDF. Mostly reservists. But if we populate the Calimor settlement with these kinds of people, we’ll ensure that we can muster up a defense force whenever we need.”
Isadora nodded along. “I don’t suppose the ability to assemble a militia on the ground will help us if the Union decides to launch an orbital strike, will it?”
If Nadia had asked that sort of question, Russ might’ve been annoyed. But with Isadora, he knew and respected her habit of playing devil’s advocate. In fact, he appreciated it. Anticipating Isadora’s hypothetical counterarguments always helped him construct the best possible case.
“No, but if the Union moved against us, they probably wouldn’t immediately resort to the most drastic measure possible. I’ve been reading their military history, and they’ve only carried out an orbital strike once, and it was after plenty of provocation. More likely they’d send in a ground force.”
“My question still stands,” Isadora said. “Presumably they have tanks, artillery…”
“That’s correct. The Union has at least fifteen armored divisions. But with a trained militia on the ground, we could at least hold them off for a period. Maybe conduct a guerrilla war. Hopefully, we’ll get to know the territory better than they do. The Union hasn’t fought a ground war on Calimor in its existence.”
“I appreciate the work you’ve put into this,” Isadora said. “But I suspect there must be downsides that you aren’t addressing. If I’m picking between two equally skilled individuals, and one knows how to defend themself, why wouldn’t I choose them?”
Russ scratched the back of his neck. “Well, it wouldn’t be completely equal. For example, you might be picking between someone who’s studied agriculture and was also in the EDF reserves, versus an actual agricultural scientist.”
Isadora paused, her eyes boring into the center of the conference table. “Keeping an agricultural expert in cryo would no doubt lead to a significant productivity loss.”
“That’s true, ma’am. But productivity has to come second to making sure the colony is safe in the first place. Or at least, as safe as it can be.”
Isadora continued to fix her eyes on the center of the table. “I agree that the ability to defend ourselves is important. I’ll authorize bringing out EDF soldiers and reservists with appropriate skill sets once Nadia makes headway on establishing our Calimor settlement. But I want to keep them at about half the total population. We should balance expertise and defense.”
A sense of relief swelled inside Russ. Half was more than he had hoped for. He had always been a big believer in the power of instinct, and all his instincts told him that Isadora was the right person for the job. Calm, cool-headed, and collected, she knew how to make the necessary choices that came with the office. He used to worry she might not see things his way, but with every decision she made, the more he trusted her.
“Is there anything else?”
“Yes ma’am. Two things, actually. First—and I’m trying to put this as delicately as possible—the decision to staff our first colony with a decent number of soldiers might not be the most popular one. Even Vincent took some arguing before I convinced him it was the right thing to do.”
Isadora gave a wry grin. “You’re talking about Nadia.”
“...I’m talking about Nadia.”
Isadora laughed.
“In reality, however, this brings up what I see as a far more pressing issue: the necessity of establishing a system of classifying certain intelligence or information,” Russ said. “I realize that there are only twenty of us awake right now. But at some point, we’ll have a fully functioning government. I believe we should have a system in place of security credentialing.”
“It’s funny...in my previous political life, the idea that I’d ever be in a position to even think about handling classified material would have been laughable,” Isadora said.
“I get that. I was never high-ranking enough in the EDF to have much access to anything at all. But with the kind of system I have in mind, you’ll have the highest access level of all.”
Isadora again fixed her gaze on the center of the table, no doubt contemplating the weight of her position.
“I’ll talk to Vincent about setting up encryption protocols. You said there was a second issue?” Isadora asked finally.
“Yes ma’am. Even if we populate the Calimor settlement with reservists, they’ll still need weapons to defend themselves. In our last meeting before Nadia departed for Calimor, I mentioned potentially setting up a relationship with the Syndicate—”
“—you mean buy arms illegally off the black market,” Isadora interrupted. “You must understand why I can’t sign off on an operation like that.”
“If we buy weapons from a licensed dealer, you can bet Union intelligence will be all over that,” Russ urged, leaning forward. “The only way to keep it off their radar is to go through the black market. Unless you want a colony of soldiers with no weapons.”
She placed her head in her palm. “Sounds like another bad-choice-is-our-only-option scenario, huh?”
“I’m afraid so, ma’am.”
Isadora nodded, and sat in contemplative silence. “Okay. But I can’t know the fu
ll details of any deal with the Syndicate. You’d need to handle it by yourself.”
“That would require a trip to Zoledo,” Russ said. “That’s where the Syndicate is headquartered. It would be too easy for the Union to trace any attempts to contact them from our position here.”
Isadora gave him a tired smile. “Life on the ship getting to you?”
“I’ll go where the job needs me to go, ma’am.” That was at least partially a lie. Russ couldn’t ignore his growing feelings of restlessness aboard the Preserver.
“I...suppose I could approve of you going to Zoledo. But you’d need backup. We can’t afford to lose you at this stage. Even if I haven’t done the work on Zoledo you have, I know enough to understand the danger.”
“I’ve already had thoughts on that. I’m not about to hire some outsider like Nadia did, but I can have Vincent identify someone else with combat experience to accompany me. Preferably someone who also has medical training. Any more than that, though, could be a drain on our financial reserves. And, once we get an encryption system set up, I can work remotely while I’m in the field. If you have any immediate concerns, I’m sure my staff can help you.”
Isadora finished her coffee, pondered Russ’ proposal, and slowly began nodding. “It all makes sense. I’ll sign off on your Zoledo trip. And we’ll consider both our dealings with the Syndicate as well as our plans for the defense of the Calimor settlement classified for now.
“But let me reiterate: I don’t want to know the full details of your trip. I still need to maintain a good relationship with Tricia Favan, and I won’t be able to do that if I know the ins and outs of our ties with the black market.”
“That’s fair,” Russ said, pushing himself up from the table and heading to the door. “And thank you. You can count on me, ma’am.”
Russ headed out after Isadora dismissed him. No matter Nadia’s ideals for their peaceful colonization efforts, Russ knew trouble was coming. Doesn’t matter if it’s next week or next year, he thought. Thanks to Isadora’s approval and Russ’ planning, they’d be prepared.
CHAPTER 10
* * *
Nadia had always wondered how she’d react under gunfire. Now she had her answer. It mostly involved a lot of running, and arguably more cursing under her breath.
It wasn’t like she was wholly unprepared, either. With all the reports she had read, she had come into the Calimor expedition with a strong sense that getting shot at was a real possibility. But when she had tried to picture being involved in a shootout, she had imagined a constant track of oh shit oh shit oh shit I’m going to die running through her head.
Instead, her head was strangely absent of any tangible thoughts. For the next few seconds, she was all instinct. And that instinct was to sprint down the corridor as fast as she could. She figured that the people shooting at her, Boyd, and the new arrival were coming from down the T-intersection. That meant forward was their best path of escape.
Actually, that was far more logical than what had happened in her brain, Nadia reflected. But she had to give props to her gut instinct. And it seemed like Boyd and the other man had come to similar conclusions. Looking over her shoulder, she saw both on her heels.
She also saw their pursuers’ headlamps at the mouth of the T-intersection. Seconds later, they fired off another salvo of plasma bolts. The trio was far enough away that the shots went wide, but they still slammed into the tunnel walls, showering them with debris and dirt.
“Use your jets!” Boyd said. Seconds later, he shot forward deeper down the tunnel, propelled by the miniature thrusters on his suit. Their new companion must’ve had similar capabilities on his own suit, and sped down the tunnel right after.
Nadia activated her thrusters and shot forward abruptly. The small fissures in the tunnel walls turned to lines as her body hurtled ahead.
The man they had run into began gesturing wildly off to their left. Boyd looked back over his shoulder, exchanged glances with Nadia, and shrugged. Without much of a plan to go off of, Nadia figured, they might as well play along with the other man. At the very least, they shared a common adversary.
All three cut their thrusters, landing hard. The thud of Nadia’s boot lugs hitting the concrete reverberated through the tunnels. To their left, Nadia’s light beams illuminated an unnatural hole in the wall. There were concrete bricks splayed out at the mouth of the opening, as if someone had blown their way in.
As Boyd and the other man sprinted inside, Nadia paused at the opening and looked back down the corridor. The light beams of their pursuers weren’t even visible at this distance. Hopefully, their maneuvers had put enough space between them and their attackers that they could lose them in the rock caverns.
She figured she had at least bought time to catch her breath. Like everyone else aboard the Preserver, Nadia had undergone muscular electroshock therapy while in cryo, keeping her body strong enough to withstand the effects of planetary gravity even over a century after the last time she had been down a gravity well.
Cardio was a different story. Even a quick sprint had left her gasping for air.
And she had time to mourn Mason and Gage. She had barely talked to them, and had even resented their presence on the expedition. That didn’t mean she couldn’t feel an acute sense of sorrow.
The soldiers had gone ahead specifically to keep her and Boyd out of harm’s way. They were dead because of that. Sorrow gave way to guilt—it bothered her how easily she had sprinted by their bodies—which in turn gave way to anger, the kind she knew was unproductive but that she couldn’t help but feel anyway. I should be feeling worse, she thought. I only thought about keeping myself safe in the moment.
She resolved, inwardly, to make sure that the refugees’ future settlement on Calimor would have statues for both of them someday. And then she pushed her hands off her knees and walked over to Boyd and the other man. The mission had to continue.
Nadia approached the two men. “I’ve patched him into our comm channel,” Boyd said.
Nadia crossed her arms. “So,” she said, facing the new arrival, “do you want to explain what that was? And who you are?”
“My name is Derek Hozan. And that, back there, was a squad of Junta soldiers,” the man said. “My team and I got split up. I went one way, they went the other. Looks like the majority of the enemy went after me.”
Nadia didn’t find it too surprising to run into the Junta on Calimor, although the Exemplar hadn’t detected a Junta warship in orbit on their approach. That probably meant it was a small expeditionary force, not an army.
“Junta?” Boyd asked. “Then that means you’re—”
“—Horde,” Derek confirmed.
Nadia saw Boyd’s eyes narrow behind his helmet. “What settlement are you—”
“—Modrin,” Derek answered.
“Oh crap,” Boyd muttered, turning around and placing his head in his palm: a normally natural gesture that struck Nadia as strangely funny in his enviro-suit.
“I’ll admit I’m a little lost here,” Nadia said.
“The Modrin have been the scourge of the outer rim for decades,” Boyd explained. “They’re almost single-handedly the reason everyone who grew up here on Calimor had to get militia training as a kid. And they even attacked the other Ikkren settlements! They’re bloodthirsty.”
“That was a long time ago,” Derek said, his voice quiet with an edge of gruffness. “Things are different now.”
“We should move further into the caverns,” Nadia interjected. “The Junta soldiers will reach us soon, and they could still spot us from the tunnel.”
The two men gave each other wary glances and then led the way deeper into the cavern system. Nadia followed up in the rear, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure Junta soldiers weren’t bearing down on them. No one appeared.
Nadia enjoyed the alternating sounds of her footsteps. One step might have the hard thud of hitting rock, while the next would have a soft crunch as he
r foot landed on packed sand. While Boyd and Derek were eyeing each other, and when she wasn’t anxiously checking for pursuers, she focused on the surrounding caverns.
The caverns were beautiful, with layered sheets of rock forming a remarkably smooth, cubic cave system. It was nothing like a jagged limestone quarry or a blocky granite cavern. Nadia resolved to come back and spend some actual time exploring the caves when she wasn’t getting shot at. Or trying to set up a colony desperately needed by her people.
The trio approached a shelf that Nadia pegged to be at least twenty feet tall. Using their suits, all three propelled themselves to the top. They continued onward, even further from the entrance to the caves and well out of sight for any prying eyes. Nadia hoped they could finally breathe easy.
But she knew that the further they went into the caverns, the further they were from the Exemplar. Our only form of escape, she thought. Nadia knew she would need to report everything back to Isadora. But with hostile troops crawling all over the settlement, she wasn’t sure it was safe to double back to their ship. They were on their own. That meant she’d have to rely on her own judgment calls.
“What are you people even doing here?” Boyd asked, interrupting Nadia’s thoughts.
“My team was scouting the area for a possible settlement zone,” Derek said. “Things haven’t been easy for us on Ikkren recently. I never even wanted to be a raider...I was supposed to enroll in university. But funds were drying up and the school had to close. For us, the choice is between a slow economic collapse or expansion. Anyway, we knew Junta troops have a presence on Calimor. Normally, we’d ignore each other, but they’re trying to take control of the settlement.”
