by K. B. Wagers
Petty Officer First Class Altandai Khan, she/her, skidded to a halt near a bunk. “Doge, say hi!” she ordered as she flopped onto the bed and pulled on a pair of sweats.
The Robotic Optics Vehicular and Extravehicular Reconnaissance AI unfolded itself from what looked to Max like a dog bed in the corner of the room and tapped over to her, sitting its long body down, looking disturbingly similar to her grandmother’s pit bull mix, Shady.
She crouched, instantly fascinated. “I’ve never seen one running before. I thought they were all decommissioned.”
“They were, I saved him. He’ll say hi.”
“The AI’s still active?”
“She’s not hooked in yet, Jenks,” Nika said.
“Ah, right—sorry, he only talks on the channel. In that case: Doge, shake.”
The robot lifted a paw, which Max took with a delighted grin and shook up and down twice. Then her father’s disapproving voice slammed into her.
You’re their lieutenant, Maxine. Excellent first impression, rolling around on the floor with the dog.
She scrambled to her feet, wiping her palms off on her uniform pants and pasting a smile on her face. Everyone was staring, but Max had learned how not to fidget under the watchful eyes of her parents and stood still, waiting for someone to say something.
No one said anything.
“Nika, what did the admiral have to say about that jumper? Is he going to let me take a look—” The tank of a man who came in from a side door broke through the tension and his face split into a friendly smile. “Max!” He crossed the room, his arms outstretched.
“Master Chief, it’s very good to see you again,” she said in passable Chinese. The Babel implant would have translated her words from English to the man’s native Mandarin, but she saw the delight in his brown eyes even if her greeting was extremely rusty.
“How did you know she was coming?” Nika asked.
“I may have heard something on the stars.” Ma shrugged. “You should have heard the message your father sent me last year after you went into the Interceptor course.” He whistled at Max. “He wasn’t happy.”
“I’m so sorry. It’s really not your fault.” The squeak of surprise was undignified and she knew everyone was staring again when Ma swept her up into a hug, but she hugged him back as tightly as she could.
“You let me worry about your father,” he whispered in her ear. “We’ve been friends a long time and he’ll forgive me. He’ll forgive you, too.”
Max doubted it, but she didn’t protest out loud.
“So, Ma neglected to tell me you two know each other.” Nika’s voice dripped with amusement and Max cleared her throat as she straightened her uniform jacket. “In order, you’ve got Ensign Nell Zika. She’s our tech expert and navigator.” He pointed to the woman with wavy brown hair who’d been flipping through holo-displays.
“Call me Sapphi, LT,” she said with a wave.
“Sapphi does the computer side of things. You need anything on that front or electronics fixed, she’ll be the one to see.” Nika pointed to Khan, who was whispering fiercely with Petty Officer Uchida. “Petty Officer First Class Altandai Khan. She’s our enforcer and mechanic.”
“Jenks, Lieutenant. I can piece ’em together; Sapphi makes the software run.” She nodded once, abruptly formal, and Max resisted the urge to sigh.
“Don’t ask about the name,” Nika said. “Jenks and Ma keep our shit running. You know the budget keeps getting slashed so we often have to make do.”
“I thought Jupiter was a priority.” She’d seen the budget figures come through the admiral’s office, but hadn’t thought much about them at the time.
“It is.” Nika grinned. “This is what happens when we get priority.”
“Heat and air. They feed us when they’re feeling generous,” the others echoed in unison, laughter in their reply.
“Petty Officer Third Class Uchida Tamashini. Also known as Tamago. They’re our medic, also our negotiator. You need help getting things, they’re the person to talk to.”
Tamago waved a hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.”
“We’ll get you round with the boat crews later, but this is Zuma’s Ghost.” Nika gestured around. “Ma just came out of the team office. Commander’s room is at the far end. There’s a communal room for personal time, and a second one that’s supposed to be the other officer’s quarters. I sleep out here. If you want your own room you’re welcome to it or you can take my bunk.” He pointed off to the end of the row.
“Why would she take your bunk?” Jenks asked.
Max watched as Nika winced and flicked his gaze skyward, mumbling what could have been a prayer under his breath before he looked back down and forced a smile.
“Commander wanted to make a big deal of it at dinner tonight, but we all know how plans go. I have been promoted to commander,” he announced, and the room exploded into noise once more.
Max stepped back so the others could congratulate their teammate, but rather than rush forward with the others, Jenks hung back. “Promotion means he’s being transferred,” she murmured. “You’re his replacement.” The look she shot Max was indecipherable.
She wasn’t sure if a response was expected, but the manners hammered into her from childhood won out and Max extended her hand. “Max Carmichael. It’s nice to meet you.”
Jenks eyed her hand as if it were something unpleasant, then turned and headed out the door without another word, Doge on her heels.
“Ah, hell. Sorry, Max, she didn’t mean anything by that,” Nika said. “Ma, finish showing Max around, will you? I’d better go talk to Jenks before she punches someone in the face and gets demoted again.”
I will not cry. Crying is for babies. I am not a baby.
The mantra from the orphanage rolled on a loop in her head as Jenks strode down the corridor at a pace just short of a run.
She’d known this day was coming. They’d been so lucky to be together at all when it came right down to it, and she should be grateful for that.
“I never was good at being grateful,” she muttered.
“Jenks!”
She ignored Nika’s call and kept going. He’d catch up with her, that was just as much a fact as his leaving her. There was no getting around his long-ass legs. But she didn’t have to make it easy for him.
Jenks snagged a rung and swung out into the zero-g tube that would take her to the top of the station. Doge took the leap, his momentum carrying him upward with her, though she reached back and locked her fingers in his blue collar. She heard Nika curse behind her, the words lost as she soared out of earshot.
She hit the upper observation deck, relief flooding her when she saw it was empty, and headed around the massive ring that encircled the top of the tower toward her usual spot. The heavy green scent of one of Jupiter Station’s two bio-recyclers filled her nose, easing some of her anxiety.
“Jenks, come on.”
She kept going.
“Petty Officer Altandai Khan, stop your ass right now.” That was a tone she hadn’t heard from her brother in a very long time, and it was enough to make her legs refuse to follow any orders from her brain to keep moving forward. Doge also came to a halt, looking between them with a whimper.
“Petty Officer, look at me.” He always knew how to make her behave. Jenks would pull a lot of stupid shit, but throw an order into the mix and it was like flipping a switch.
She turned to him, her eyes wet with tears she refused to let fall.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he said, bending down so he could look her in the eye. “I swear.”
“It’s fine.” She mustered up a smile along with the mental bricks to wall off the pain.
“Don’t do that.” Nika shook his head, grabbing her by the back of her head and pressing their foreheads together. “I know you, Jenks, don’t try to pretend with me. I know you’re upset.”
She pulled away, taking the six quick steps required to pu
t her at the wide, curving windows that looked out onto Jupiter. She pushed aside a wide bioengineered leaf and wiped the condensation from the window with her fingers.
There’d once been a storm down there that humans had named the Great Red Spot. She’d read about it in one of her twenty-first-century-history binges. But it had burned itself out long before humans made it this far.
Nothing lasts, Jenks—live in the moment.
“I won’t be far.” Nika attempted a smile as he came up beside her, and Jenks leaned into him with a sigh.
“Light-years,” she countered. “I know how far Trappist is, Nik. You’ll be thirty-nine point six light-years away from me, and that’s officially the farthest we’ve ever been apart.”
“Okay, you got me there, but we’ll talk. I promise. You’ll always be my sister, you know that. No matter how many light-years are between us.”
“Who’s going to have your back?”
He tapped his fist to his heart, waiting patiently for her to echo it. Jenks blew out a breath and finally did, hitting the back of his fist with hers. Nika caught her arm on the return swing and pulled her in, touching his forehead to hers again. “You will. Forever.”
“Find someone you can trust,” she ordered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you. Go be awesome.”
“I’m not leaving quite yet.”
“You’re staying until the Games?” She couldn’t keep the hope from her voice, but the brief flash disappeared when Nika shook his head.
“No, Max just got here early. I’ve got a few days yet before I need to ship out. The commander said you’d all manage. Trust her.”
“She’s not as good with the sword as you are. We need those points.”
“Maybe Max is better.”
“Who?” She said it because she could and to see the exasperated look from him one more time. “I’m kidding. Maybe. I don’t think we’re quite that lucky, though.”
“You never know. Either way I have a feeling this is going to be the big one for Zuma.” He pulled her into a hug. “So kick some ass, and you be nice to the lieutenant.”
“I won’t make any promises.”
Nika cursed and cuffed her on the back of the head. “Be nice. Max seems like a decent sort. She’s also lonely and could use someone to watch her back. That’s what this team is about, right?”
Jenks heaved a sigh that was more dramatic than necessary. “I guess.”
“Admission time, Commander.”
Rosa gave her commanding officer a smile. “I caught that ‘not my idea’ comment when you first told us about the orders. What’s going on?”
“As I said, this whole promotion thing came down from on high. I could have fought it, of course, but I’m hoping that Admiral Chen knows what she’s doing.” Hoboins rubbed at his cheek. “Carmichael doesn’t seem like much on paper, but she’s still shiny and new and the admiral seems to have a plan she doesn’t want to share. My gut says Max will make up for what you’re losing in Nika, just maybe not in a way we’d all expect. What’s your plan for the Games?”
Rosa knew the question was coming, but she sighed anyway. “I’m sure Ensign Zika has her projections laid out, or rather she’s furiously redoing them while cursing us both. Do you want me to send them to you?”
Hoboins pinned her with the steely-eyed look he was so famous for. “I want to know your thoughts, Rosa. Nika can do good work in Trappist, since you keep refusing my suggestions we send you instead. Meanwhile, Command is understandably hot about the Games this year, but for some reason they pushed this transfer through anyway. We came so damn close to winning, do you think they just blew this year’s chances out of space with this promotion? Should I fight them on it? I can find another crew to put Carmichael in and Trappist can wait nine fucking months.”
“No, it’ll be fine,” Rosa replied. She’d have said the words regardless and was reasonably sure the admiral felt the same way. Whatever the spirit of the Games was, it didn’t override their mission and she wouldn’t let it stand in the way of someone with Nika’s skills getting the recognition he deserved. Plus, as he’d said, maybe there was more to Maxine Carmichael than met the eye.
But the pressure was on. They had come so fucking close to winning it last year. A century of the Boarding Games, and the NeoG had yet to win the overall competition. They’d won individual events multiple times, but never the whole thing. It was yet another reason the NeoG was looked down on by the other branches.
And when you added the team’s loss last year by three points—three fucking points—it had been a humiliation at the much-publicized centennial event.
Rosa had only herself to blame. If she’d been a minute faster figuring out the puzzles in the Big Game, they’d have won. If she’d gotten just one more hit on her opponent in the sword fight, they’d have won.
No one on the team blamed her, of course—they were all too busy asking themselves what they could have done better. But the three points were definitely there for the taking, and she was the commander, so she knew it was her fault.
And now the admiral’s question still stood, and while her own swordsmanship was nothing to sneeze at, no one was as good as Nika.
“I don’t recall seeing a note of her comp in her file,” she said. The unspoken Please tell me she’s an amazing sword fighter hung in the air between them like a lead balloon.
“She hasn’t competed at all.” Lee had the grace to look at least a little abashed as he shrugged his broad shoulders at her level stare. “Headquarters’ team is compiled differently from ours, Commander.”
“I know,” Rosa murmured. Honorable Intent was a good team, for one that was mostly composed of Earth-bound Neos from HQ. “Admiral, can I ask what the story is there?” Rosa picked her words carefully. “Granted, what I know about the family is mostly from the news or—” She fumbled, changed track. “It seems a little strange to have the admirals Carmichaels’ youngest daughter join the NeoG. Let alone go for an Interceptor slot.”
“You’re not wrong. She was ensconced safely at HQ until a year ago and likely would have spent her whole career there. I’d suggest asking her about it, though, or maybe the master chief.”
“Why would Ma know?”
“He’s friends with her father from way back. Rumor has it he’s the one who influenced Max to join NeoG instead of the Navy.” Hoboins grinned. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
Rosa shot her superior officer a look. “The Carmichaels are big-time. Am I about to land in the middle of a political mess, Admiral? Because you know Jenks, she’ll—”
“It’s fine, Commander. Don’t worry about it.”
“I worry about everything,” she said as she got to her feet. “It’s my job.”
“I know. It’s one of the reasons I like you,” Hoboins said, and waved a hand at her. “Dismissed, Commander. Go get your newbie settled in.”
Chapter 7
No one else seemed bothered by what had just happened, so Max tried to take a surreptitious deep breath.
“Since Nika will probably be with us for a few days, we’ll put you in this room. You can move back out after he’s gone if you want.” Ma pointed at the room on the left. “But if you want to stay in it you’re more than welcome.” Ma smiled. “Privileges of rank and all that. Nika preferred to sleep in—”
“Ah, shit,” Sapphi burst out. “Ma, the Games. The Games! I have to redo the whole strategy. Lieutenant, please tell me you’re an amazing sword fighter?”
“I, uh, I’ve been trained. In basic.” Judging by the wide-eyed look she got from the ensign, that wasn’t at all helpful.
“You’ve never competed in the Games?”
“Sapphi, watch the tone.”
“Sorry, Ma.” Sapphi winced, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. “I’ll figure something out. We’ll have to do a test round with her, see what needs to be shuffled. It’s fine, we’ve got fifteen weeks before the prelims, we’ll be fine. It’s fine.”
>
Ma chuckled in amusement as Sapphi wandered off muttering “fine” to herself. “Don’t worry about it, Lieutenant. Tamago there, they didn’t know much about the Games when they joined us, either.”
Petty Officer Uchida smiled. “I knew about it, just hadn’t participated. I suppose I’m going to have to get serious about my sword fighting, Chief?”
“Most likely.” He pointed across the room. “Go keep Sapphi’s head from exploding while I show Max around.”
“The Games are a big deal out here?” Max asked after Tamago had crossed back over and plopped onto the ensign’s bunk.
“You worked at HQ, Max,” he said, the implications clear.
“I know.” She lifted a hand. “But it wasn’t—I remember conversations about it, but to be honest, I tried to tune them out.”
“You are not much of a competitor, are you?” He laughed.
Max sighed. Growing up in a family of competitors had meant a childhood of endless, exhausting fighting to be on top. The minute she’d gotten out from under that had been a relief of unspeakable measure. She’d spent the next several years of her life convincing herself that she didn’t need to be competitive. Her first-place ranking in her Interceptor class proved how difficult that lesson was to unlearn.
And here she was, back in the thick of it with an Interceptor team that was—had been—part of the second-place finishers at last year’s Games. “Sorry, Ma. I know it probably bothers you.”
“Don’t be.” Ma shrugged his massive shoulders. “We were hoping for revenge this year, but without Nika, I’m not sure it’s possible.”
Max felt the competitive streak she’d gone to such great lengths to tamp down surge to life once again. “Hopefully I’ll prove to be good at something,” she said before she could stop herself.
Ma smiled. “We’ll get it sorted out. Head and showers are over there. We have an unlimited supply of recycled water thanks to the gardens, though if for some reason we run short we could always get it from Europa.” Ma pointed across the room back toward the main door. “Team office is over there, like Nika said. Commander has a secure link in her room also.