Sasha smiled. “Oh? Should I be worried?”
Cole shrugged. “I don’t think so. I wanted to discuss your career plans. I’m pretty sure everyone believes war with the Coalition is inevitable at this point, so no one will be surprised when we start promoting people. You’ve been my first officer since before we had a crew, so as far as I’m concerned, you can have your own ship whenever you say you want one. I’m going to ask Sev, Sato, Trask, and Mattias to design build plans and training plans so that we have crew ready for each ship as soon as they come out of the shipyard. I want every system we control or with whom we’re allied to have at least a system picket. When we establish that federation, we’ll work our way up to every member system having a home fleet. Heh…I should probably throw Harlon in that conversation, too, because all of our ship designs have an accommodation for embarked marines. But Harlon’s not here, and I think he still wants to call me bad names for making him a general. So, where do you want your career to go?”
Sasha sighed. “I…don’t know. I mean, when I joined the Aurelian Commonwealth Navy, I wanted what every young officer wants: to be a flag officer held in high esteem by her peers. But now? Is it bad that I don’t really want to leave Haven?”
Cole shook his head. “Nope. Not bad at all. Yeleth has no interest in being anything other than Ship’s Purser here; I’ve already had a conversation with her, and Wixil is still technically a minor…if my math is right. Akyra likes it right where she is, too. Mazzi, though, I’d like to see her move into a first officer slot somewhere. I don’t want her to leave Haven, but if you don’t want your own ship, there won’t be a first officer vacancy here anytime soon.”
Sasha frowned and looked down at the table.
“What?” Cole asked. “What is it you’re not saying right now?”
Sasha took a deep breath and lifted her eyes to meet Cole’s. “I feel a little bad that I don’t want to become a captain in my own right. I feel like I’m blocking the way for people to move up.”
Cole scoffed. “Nonsense, and I want to be very clear about something else. If you ever decide that you do want your own command, say so. I don’t operate on that business of ‘refuse once, and it’ll never be offered again’ crap.”
“Thank you. I guess I’m just not ready to leave Haven yet.”
Just then, a text overlay appeared in Cole’s field of vision alerting him to an incoming call from the bridge. Cole accessed his implant and accepted the call, choosing to route it through the dining room speakers.
“Cole here,” he answered.
“Sir, a message just came in from Captain Vasquez at Babylon, and…well…it’s not good.”
Every head in the dining hall that Cole could see turned to look their way.
Cole chuckled and said, “You might as well give me the overview.”
“Yes, sir,” the bridge watch officer replied. “Captain Vasquez says about twenty ships—a mix of freighters and star liners—just arrived in Gateway. Those ships report that they came from the Duchy of Musilar, because two months ago, the Coalition made a major push and crushed the Duchy’s navy and defenses in all their systems. From what he gleaned in conversation with the spokeswoman for the group, it sounded like the Duke led what was left of his navy in a ‘last stand’ to give these ships time to leave the Musilar system.”
Sasha and Cole shared a look before Cole said, “Thanks. Could you send that message to my queue? I’m on the mess deck right now.”
“Of course, sir,” the bridge watch officer answered. “Will there be anything else?”
“Work up a course change for the battlegroup; I should probably visit Babylon Station to meet these refugees. Thank you. Cole out.” The overhead speakers chirped to indicate the call was ended, and Cole looked to Sasha. “Want to watch the full message with me?”
Sasha nodded. “I probably should.”
Cole nodded and stood. He collected their dishes and utensils onto one tray and returned them to the used dinnerware area before walking out of the dining hall with Sasha at his side.
Entering the day-cabin on Deck Three, Cole led Sasha over to the sitting area. He accessed his message queue through his implant and instructed the sole message there to play on the viewscreen. Captain Vasquez appeared on the viewscreen, and the message began.
“Hello, sir,” Vasquez said. “We’ve had a development. About twelve hours ago, twenty ships arrived in Gateway via the rim-ward jump gate, the one that connects us to that brown dwarf system containing just a couple of rocky planetoids. The system picket went out to meet them, and they’re broadcasting Duchy of Musilar transponders. Apparently, they’re all that’s left of the Duchy. Here, I’ll include the message we received from the ships and come back after it plays.”
The image on the viewscreen faded to a young woman about Cole’s age, and Sasha gasped. Even through a video message, the young woman’s entire demeanor radiated sadness and tension.
“Pause,” Cole instructed and turned to Sasha. “What is it? Do you recognize her?”
Sasha nodded, her eyes a little wide. “That’s the Duke’s daughter. She would’ve been Duchess when her father died.”
“Well, that explains the last stand,” Cole replied grimly. “Resume playback.”
“Please forgive our unannounced arrival in your system,” the young woman began. “The pickets in the previous systems allowed us through and suggested we make our course for Gateway. This collection of freighters and passenger liners is all that remains of the free Duchy of Musilar, and we have come to beg asylum from Mister Coleson in the hopes of pursuing citizenship in Beta Magellan or one of his other systems. Two months ago, the Coalition began a massive incursion into the Duchy’s space, invading the systems with overwhelming force. Troop transports followed. By the time the invasion fleet reached Musilar, the Duke took what remained of the Duchy’s navy out to give as many people time to flee as he could. We don’t have direct information on the Duke’s fate, but we presume him and all his forces to be lost.” The young woman’s jaw trembled during the last statement about the Duke, and her dark eyes glistened with moisture. “We don’t have much, but whatever we have, we will gladly pay just to have a chance at a safe place to live. We…we have nowhere else to go.”
The image of the young woman faded out, replaced by Captain Vasquez.
“Sir, I have provisionally granted them asylum, pending your review of the matter. I’m not sure what else we can do for them at this time, beyond the basic Humanitarian stuff we do for all refugees that come here. She hasn’t said so in any of her communications, but I’m pretty sure the spokeswoman for this group is the Duke’s daughter and sole heir. Thank you. Vasquez out.”
The viewscreen faded to black, and Cole turned to Sasha, saying, “That’s why there wasn’t any Coalition response to us liberating those five systems. Their focus was on the Duchy of Musilar.”
“It would seem so,” Sasha agreed.
Cole fell silent as he stared at the decking.
“I recognize that expression, Cole,” Sasha said. “You’re thinking about taking a fleet out to the Duchy, aren’t you?”
Cole tried to grin, but it didn’t quite make it. “You know me so well. That’s exactly what I want to do…but I also know we don’t have the ships or infrastructure. The last thing I can afford to do is to start a war with the Coalition before we’re ready, but this infuriates me, Sasha. You have no idea how much what the Coalition has done just simply infuriates me.”
“I can imagine, Cole,” Sasha softly replied.
“Computer,” Cole said, “record a message for transmission; save it as ‘Musilar Refugee Welcome.’”
“Ready,” the ship’s computer replied.
“Hello, I’m Bartholomew James Coleson. First off, allow me to express my sympathies for the loss of your homes. Captain Vasquez tells me he provisionally granted you asylum, and I’m removing the provisional status. All of you are welcome to pursue Beta Magellan citizenship. I am curre
ntly returning to Beta Magellan, but as soon as Captain Vasquez’s message arrived—which included your message as well—I altered course for Gateway. I don’t have an ETA at this moment, but I would like to speak with you at a time convenient for you once I arrive. Don’t worry; Captain Vasquez and his people will take good care of you and yours. Coleson out.”
“Message saved,” the ship’s computer reported.
“Computer, record a new message,” Cole said without missing a beat, “and save it as ‘Message to Captain Vasquez.’”
“Ready,” the ship’s computer responded.
“Captain Vasquez, thank you for alerting me to the arrival of the refugees. Your message caught us a few days out of Epsilon Anubis, and I’ve already ordered the battlegroup to alter course for Gateway. I’m not sure of our estimated arrival time at the moment, but I’m coming to speak with the refugee leadership. I imagine Garrett will want to interview several of the refugees himself, as well. I’m attaching a message I’d like forwarded to the refugee spokeswoman, please. See you when we make port. Cole out.”
“Message saved,” the ship’s computer intoned.
“Computer, attach ‘Musilar Refugee Welcome’ message to ‘Message to Captain Vasquez’, and send it to Captain Vasquez at Babylon Station.”
Moments later, the computer returned, “Message with attachment sent.”
“Thank you, computer.” Cole turned to Sasha. “I’m making the correct choice, right? In not charging off on a mission of liberation to Musilar?”
Sasha slowly nodded. “As much as I’d like to join you on that mission, yes, we can’t do anything right now beyond welcome those refugees and give a safe home to any who want one with us and pass the interview.”
Cole nodded and more collapsed than flopped into one of the nearby armchairs. “I hate this feeling of wanting to act—almost needing to act—and not being able to do so. It doesn’t sit well with me.”
“It never sits well with anyone, Cole,” Sasha replied, “not that I’ve seen, anyway. But I should probably let you relax if you can.” Sasha stood and walked to the hatch, which irised open for her. She stopped and turned back. “See you on the bridge in the morning.”
Cole nodded. “See you in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Babylon Station
Gateway
15 January 3004, 09:18 GST
Cole and Sasha walked with Captain Vasquez through the spaces set aside for newly arrived refugees. Sorrow and loss permeated the space like an invisible fog; Cole could count on one hand the number of smiles he saw. He made a point of exchanging a few words of welcome and well wishes with each person who reacted to his presence, and as they neared the hatch once again, Cole stopped and looked back over the large compartment, then turned to Vasquez.
“Captain, whatever they need—clothes, food, toys or sweets for the children, whatever they need—see that they have it, and send me the bill. Don’t take it out of the regular refugee funds. You don’t have to make a big deal of it, but I want these people to feel warm, safe, and welcome.”
Vasquez nodded once. “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it myself.”
Cole turned and approached the hatch, which irised open. Red the Igthon fell into step behind the trio as they moved down the corridor.
A ten-minute walk delivered them to the conference room where Cole would be meeting with the refugee leadership. Entering, Cole saw Garrett already occupying a chair, and the old friends exchanged nods.
Cole had just enough time to get comfortable when the conference room hatch opened to admit the woman Cole had seen in the message, leading two other people he didn’t know. Cole stood, prompting the others seated to do so, and extended his hand.
“Hello. Please, call me Cole. This is my first officer, Sasha Thyrray, and my…well…foreign intelligence advisor, Garrett. I believe you know Captain Vasquez. The Igthon in the corner is Red; forgive me for not introducing him by his proper name, but he swears Humans can’t speak it.”
The young woman gave him a respectable handshake, saying, “Thank you. I’m Victoria Rainier, and yes, my father was the Duke. The gentleman on my left is Jameson Mayweather, and the lady on my right is Beth Liu.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Cole responded, “though the circumstances could be much better. Please, be seated.”
Everyone sat (except for Red), and Cole leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table and interlacing his fingers.
“I have people seeing to your various needs,” Cole said, “and I understand the infirmary is tending a number of wounded or ill.”
Victoria returned a half-smile. “Thank you, but I don’t know how we can pay—”
“‘Pay’ is not a word that has any place in this discussion,” Cole countered. “You and your people have lost a lot, and you’ll have what you need to get your feet under you. Beta Magellan alone has about one-point-five jobs per person at this point, and we have other systems in need of people as well.”
Some of the tension left Victoria’s shoulders, and she nodded. “I…thank you. We didn’t have a lot of time to pack before we left…but so many other people didn’t even have the opportunity to flee.” Her expression was bleak.
“I understand,” Cole replied. “We don’t have the resources right now—mainly ships and people—but as soon as we do, we’re taking the fight to the Coalition. If they’re not stopped, they’ll just keep invading systems and brutalizing people, and I for one refuse to stand for it. We’re not ready, not quite yet, but we’re building toward that goal.”
“I daresay you’ll have quite a few volunteers from my people when you put out the call,” Victoria said. “I lost count of the people aboard our ships wanting to take the fight to the Coalition…which isn’t all that easy to do when you have nothing but unarmed freighters and passenger liners.”
Cole shrugged. “It would certainly make for a challenge, if nothing else. Among your group, are there any specific needs you know of, beyond the basics like food, clothing, shelter, and diversions for the children?”
“I don’t believe so,” Victoria answered. “I…I just do not have the words to thank you for the welcome and hospitality we’ve been given. We’d heard Beta Magellan was receptive to refugees, but ‘receptive’ can mean a great many things.”
Cole tried offering a smile, but the childhood memory of a burning colony tinged the smile with sorrow. “I know very well what it’s like to be cast adrift in an uncaring galaxy, and as long as I am alive, good people who think they have nowhere to go will have somewhere to go. Now…as your people pass the interview process, we’ll set them up with a local family that will help them get accustomed to life in Beta Magellan, or wherever they choose to settle. Everyone you meet in Beta Magellan—with one or two possible exceptions—was a refugee once; they know very well what you’ve faced, and they’ll help you and your people start over.”
“What about Gateway?” Beth Liu asked. “Isn’t everyone here a former refugee, too?”
“Not necessarily,” Cole answered. “You see, Gateway is our public port, for lack of a better term. At the moment, Beta Magellan is a closed system, and only people who’ve passed our interview process are permitted there for the long term…except for a few specific and temporary cases. Beta Magellan is the refuge, you see. It is the place of ultimate safety where people can rebuild their lives until such time as they want to live somewhere else, if they ever decide to move. The system can support well into the multiple billions, population-wise, so there’s no reason yet for anyone to feel crowded.”
“But couldn’t someone just blitz past the station and use the jump gate into Beta Magellan?” Mayweather asked.
Cole nodded. “Yes, that’s true, but until that kind of thing becomes a problem, I won’t start locking down the gate here in Gateway. Besides, the jump gate forts are rather impressive. Even if someone did blitz through the gate, they couldn’t get outside the range of the fort in Beta Magellan bef
ore the fort could reduce them to atoms, assuming of course they refused to stop and explain themselves.”
“I didn’t realize it was possible to lock down a jump gate,” Victoria remarked.
Cole offered a slight shrug. “It isn’t for the general public, but I own the jump gates.”
“You own…” Beth’s voice trailed off as her lips formed an almost-perfect ‘o.’ “Coleson as in Coleson Interstellar Engineering?”
Cole nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”
For a few heartbeats, Beth looked like she might faint.
“Sorry,” Victoria said, little more than a whisper as she put her arm around Beth.
Cole waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. I get that reaction a lot, honestly. Do you have any questions or concerns?”
“I have more concerns than I can count, but you or your people are seeing to many of them,” Victoria replied. “Questions, though…no, not at the moment.”
“Okay, then. We’ve covered everything I wanted to discuss. If something arises, see Captain Vasquez for whatever you need. We’ll get through the interviews as quickly as possible, so your people can get ground beneath them and sky over them again.”
“Thank you again. You have no idea how much this means to us.”
Cole stood, and everyone else did as well. Cole shook hands with Victoria once more and nodded, saying, “You’re welcome, and if you need me, Captain Vasquez can contact me.”
Captain Vasquez took the initiative to escort Victoria and her people out of the conference room. Cole waited long enough for them to get a few meters down the corridor, before he, Sasha, and Red returned to Haven.
Cole’s Apartment
Citadel Station
Beta Magellan
25 January 3004, 17:35 GST
The hatch chime announced the arrival of Cole’s guest, and he took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he walked to the hatch. When he neared it, the hatch irised open to reveal Sasha. Like Cole, Sasha wore casual ‘civvies,’ and not the ship-suits they usually wore aboard Haven, and Cole smiled in greeting.
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