by M. D. Cooper
“And resupply?” Major Tim asked, scowling at Admiral Carson. “Forgive me, sir, if I’m not too excited by the idea of scavenging our way to Genevia.”
Carson clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face the major. “Boy, don’t talk to me like you know war. I watched the Red Fleet burn off the starward side of Eris when the people who founded Genevia weren’t even a twinkle in their great-great grandparents’ eyes. I hunted Sirian scout ships in the interstellar darkness beyond the Kap’s heliosphere, and flew fighters through nuclear fireballs in Bollam’s World. At New Canaan, I saw teenage girls face down Trisilieds carriers that make those Harriets out there look like quaint little toys. You think you know war because of your fight with the Niets? I’ve been at war for centuries.”
Carson’s words were doled out with a quiet menace that caused the major to shrink back in his seat and redden even further.
Rika gave the ISF admiral an appreciative look. “We will, of course, ensure that the ISF fleet is ready to join in before we hit Genevia. We have more QuanComm blades now, so we won’t be without lines of communication, like we were previously.”
In the front row, Barne raised his hand. “Colonel, Admiral, with ISF jump-gate tech, can we not just jump to Iberia now and beat Alice there?”
Carson gave Barne an apologetic shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Sergeant Major, we need the gate-tugs that brought your new ships here taken back to the Albany System. Things are heating up with the Hegemony, and we’re taking thousands of the Nietzschean ships we captured out to Spica for refit. Jumping your ships to Iberia will either chew up a gate, or require those tugs to spend over a hundred days getting back to Albany.”
“The Genevia System will be one where it’s worth establishing a permanent gate presence,” Rika added. “Though our friends in the Alliance have the ability to jump aid across the galaxy in the event of dire need—or farther, from what I’ve heard. However, jump gates themselves are at a premium.”
“It’s true,” Carson replied. “Stars, my fleet alone has eleven ships trailing along from final engagements, hauling the last gate used from places that no longer need them.”
“Too bad you can’t have a gate that can jump itself,” Barne said with a shake of his head.
“If wishes were fishes. Physics isn’t going to bend to your desires,” Lieutenant Carson patted Barne on the shoulder from where he sat in the row behind him.
“You’re just backing the admiral because you have the same name, Bondo,” Barne growled without turning.
“This is all just long-term thinking at present,” Rika said, giving Barne a pregnant look before continuing. “We can change course midway if necessary, and we won’t commit to battles we don’t think we can win. There are only so many of us, and I’m not putting Marauders carelessly at risk.”
Admiral Carson placed a hand on Rika’s shoulder. “Your Colonel Rika has the ISF’s full support, and we’ll be there when you need us. We came to Albany, and we came here to Epsilon. We’ll come to Genevia and help you take your nation back.”
With that, he shook Rika’s left hand and exited the room.
Niki commented.
From there, Rika brought Barne up to review force deployment across the fleet’s ships, and following that, Heather discussed maneuvers she wanted the captains to practice in sims over the sixty-day journey to Iberia.
The meeting went on for most of the day, but when it finally concluded, Rika felt as though her Marauders, both old and new, were jelling well.
Yet, despite her words of assurance to her people, she too was nervous about what lay ahead. They were going against an entire empire with just a few dozen ships and a few thousand troops.
Granted, those troops were mechs.
The Niets will never know what hit them.
SHEPHERDS
STELLAR DATE: 10.26.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: MSS Fury Lance
REGION: Epsilon, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
“Do you have a minute?” Adira asked Rika as the room emptied out.
“Of course,” Rika replied as she turned to the leader of the Demons. “What’s on your mind?”
Adira chewed at her lip for a moment as her piercing green eyes stared into Rika’s, then she glanced at the last few people as they filed out of the room, clearly waiting for them to be alone.
“You know that we can use the Link to talk,” Rika said with a laugh.
“Yeah,” Adira let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “It just feels weird when I’m standing face-to-face with someone. I’m not always as good at controlling my expressions as you are. OK, last one’s out. See? We can talk normally.”
“Works for me,” Rika replied and waited for Adira to speak her piece, which didn’t take long, as the other colonel jumped right in.
“I’m worried about the Marauders.”
“You mean my people?” Rika’s brows lowered.
“No…well, sorta. Not your Marauders, the Marauders. I’ve known about them for some time now. General Mill seemed like a stand-up guy, but he spent the last five years outside of Nietzschean space. I feel….”
“Like maybe he ended up with a lot of cowards in the ranks?” Rika asked.
“Well, I was going to say ‘people like your Major Tim’, but you’ve sorta hit the nail on the head. My Demons all stayed behind, fought against the Niets from inside. Sure we didn’t build up a thousand-ship fleet like the Marauders have out there in Septhia, but we made a real difference for people still stuck on the inside.”
“I get that,” Rika said with a nod. “You’re worried that if I get orders from General Julia back at Marauder HQ that are…less than ideal…that I’ll follow them to your Demons’ detriment.”
“Nail on the head, Rika, nail on the head.”
Rika pursed her lips, choosing her next words carefully. “My loyalties are…complicated. I didn’t join the Marauders of my own free will; they bought me at auction.”
“Fuck! Seriously?” Adira’s eyes widened, and she shook her head in disbelief. “And you’re still with them?”
Rika shook her head, mirroring Adira. “Like I said, it’s complicated. Someone was gonna buy me at that auction, and in retrospect, I’m glad it was the Marauders, but the fact that they did it—and required that I pay off part of my purchase price…well, let’s just say it still rankles.”
“So why’d you take that shit?” Adira asked, her voice filled with a simmering rage. “I woulda torn someone limb from limb.”
Rika met Adira’s eyes. “Having been inside the empire, you must know how it was for those of us who got released back into civilian life. Freedom was brutal. A part of me was just so happy to belong again that I ignored that I was still being treated like a thing. I also felt like the old man’s heart was in the right place, even if I didn’t agree with all of his methods.”
“OK, I get that,” Adira replied with an understanding nod, though a rage still simmered in her eyes. “We don’t always get nice, simple choices. Stars…I can’t even remember the last time I got one of those. But still, you took these Nietzschean ships. You could have sold just one of the destroyers and paid your debts and been done with the Marauders.”
“And what would that teach everyone who serves under me?” Rika asked. “They signed contracts, too. Do I show them that my word is meaningless? What will that do to their trust in me?”
“OK, so you are where you are.” Adira’s voice was resigned. “Though you seem to have enough latitude to do as you please right now, I can guarantee that your Major Tim is going to send a message back to Albany with the ISF. When it finally gets to Marauder HQ,
they may force a change in your plan.”
Rika’s lips drew into a thin line. “I’m not so sure about that. There’s a lot going on beyond Nietzschea’s borders. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of rumors about the ISF and the Scipio Alliance, right?”
“Some,” Adira nodded. “I mean, the ISF’s ships are fucking amazing. I’ve never seen anything like them before.”
“Yeah, they’re something else. The ISF’s leader…well, the leader of their military, at least, teamed up with this other group from a few thousand light years coreward of here—”
“Wait.” Adira held up her hand. “Beyond the edge of the Orion arm? There’s nothing out there.”
A grin formed unbidden on Rika’s lips. “That’s what I used to believe, too. Turns out that while the FGT did disappear, they were never really gone.”
Adira’s eyes widened. “FGT…you mean the ancient terraformers?”
“Yeah.” Rika winked as she nodded and continued. “A few years back, Admiral Tanis Richards teamed up with them, and they formed an alliance with Scipio—”
“Which does not give me the warm fuzzies.” Adira gave a firm shake of her head, ebony locks flipping across her face. “They have a…reputation, you know.”
Rika chuckled. “Oh I know. I’ve heard my share of tales. Did you know that they have a building in their capital built entirely out of the bones of their enemies?”
Adira snorted. “I’ve heard that. I don’t know if I believe it.”
“Believe it,” Rika replied. “Back in Albany, I was at a bar, and a few of their captains came in. Turns out that pretty much every crazy thing you’ve ever heard about Scipio is true.”
“Scipian captains in the Albany System?” Adira’s eyebrows rose. “What the hell were they doing there?”
“Fighting Nietzscheans,” Rika gave the other SMI a wink. “That puts them in my good graces no matter how weird their people are.”
“Shit…OK, I’m going to spend some time on the Fury Lance during the flight to Iberia. I need to hear more about that. So what does all this have to do with you possibly getting shit orders from your General Julia?”
“Right, well, that’s the thing. Septhia and Thebes have both signed on to the Scipio Alliance. Despite the fact that it has Scipio in the name, it’s really all being run by Tanis Richards. The fine print in the alliance’s treaties say that the whole thing only stays in effect so long as she’s the one in charge of the combined military might.”
“And I take it you trust her implicitly or something?”
“Well, I did save her life that one time. She kinda owes me.”
“OK, now I really need to hear your stories.”
“Me?” Rika asked. “You have K1R dragons and that insane war hammer you walk around with. I want to hear about how you survived all this time inside the empire. That’s a hell of a lot more impressive than just about anything else I’ve heard in the last few years. Well…aside from the ISF and learning that the FGT still exists.”
“Right,” Adira clapped Rika on the shoulder. “Aside from those two ridiculously amazing things. Do you have anything to eat on this Nietzschean hunk of junk, by the way?”
“Whoa, there, girl,” Rika wagged a finger at the SMI-3. “The Fury Lance is no Nietzschean ship. Not anymore. This is a mech ship. And besides. We have strawberries.”
“What’s a strawberry?”
“It’s your taste buds’ version of all this mind-blowing stuff.”
OLD TIMES
STELLAR DATE: 10.26.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: MSS Fury Lance
REGION: Epsilon, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
Despite her words, an issue on the Trenton called Adira back to her ship, and Rika arrived at the Lance’s mess alone. There, she grabbed a tray and worked her way down the line, picking out a chicken breast, grabbing a heap of mashed potatoes, and finally selecting a pasta salad.
The mechs in line with her kept trying to let Rika pass in front of them, but she declined each time, insisting that she could wait her turn.
At the end of the line, she picked out a bowl of banana pudding and then poured a cup of coffee before turning and heading toward the officers’ table.
OK, maybe officers’ corner, now.
Three of the four tables on the far end of the mess hall were filled with lieutenants, captains, and senior noncoms, but the furthest was reserved for the members of Basilisk and the other senior Marauders.
Barne sat across from Leslie—who Rika had given a field promotion to Major and designated as the Battalion’s XO, what with Alice being AWOL. Chase sat next to Barne—he still held the prestigious role of captain of M Company and was more than content to remain in command of that contingent.
The others present were Captains Heather and Scarcliff, though Heather was one seat away from Leslie, leaving Rika her customary place at the middle of the table.
“Well, look who it is,” Barne said as Rika approached. “Still eating with us plebs?”
Rika set her tray down on the table and surveyed the arrangement. “OK, I know we have our own table and all, but have we really denoted separate sides for boys and girls?”
Chase glanced at Barne on his right and Scarcliff on his left. “Uhh…I guess?”
“Well I’m breakin’ all the rules,” Silva said as she settled down next to Scarcliff. “Besides, I want to get to know the captain here better.”
Scarcliff had been more focused on his meatloaf than the conversation around him, and glanced at Silva in surprise. “Sfnwha?”
“You heard me,” Silva gave Scarcliff a nudge. “Now that we’re both captains with our own companies, you and I can finally get busy.”
Scarcliff quickly swallowed his mouthful and gave Silva an appraising look. “You’ve hardly ever said two words to me before….”
Silva shrugged and her face took on a wounded expression. “I’ve been recovering from my plight.”
“She’s messing with you, Scarcliff,” Rika said while glaring at Silva and shaking her head. “Silva’s only interested in her GNR.”
Silva reached back and patted her gun’s barrel, which was currently slotted into the mount on her back. “True, this thing’s man enough for me.”
Barne leant around Chase, staring at Silva with an open-mouthed smile. “I have so many questions right now.”
Leslie nodded vigorously. “Yeah, spill it, Silva.”
“Really, Leslie?” Rika asked. “I thought you’d civilize Barne, not become corrupted by him.”
“Innocent ol’ me? Corrupt Leslie?” Barne gave Rika a wide-eyed look while placing a hand on his chest. “I don’t know if I should be pleased or impressed.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Chase said before sliding a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Barne gave an exaggerated shrug. “It made a lot more sense in my head.”
“I gotta say,” Rika looked at Barne and then Silva. “You two did great work getting the latecomers up to speed. We’ve got a solid fighting force here.”
“Mostly Barne’s work,” Silva said graciously. “I just stood around and looked menacing.”
“It’s true,” Barne agreed, nodding vigorously. “I did all the work.”
“Barne!” Silva exclaimed. “I’ll tell them about the thing.”
“The thing?” Heather leaned in, eyes alight. “I want to hear about the thing.”
Barne gave Silva a measuring look before his gaze swept across the table. “The thing is…that there is no thing.”
“Really?” Scarcliff asked. “I’ll put ten on the thing being with a girl.”
“I’ll put Barne’s life on it not being ‘with a girl’,” Leslie said sweetly—too sweetly—and Barne’s eyes widened in alarm.
“On top of there being no thing, there was most certainly not a thing with any girls,” he insisted, then changed tracks. “Rika, did I t
ell you that the Septhians tried to recruit away a bunch of our mechs?”
“What, seriously?” Rika set her fork down and glowered at the sergeant major. “After they signed with us?”
“No,” Silva shook her head. “Well sorta.”
“That is not a useful answer,” Scarcliff interjected.
Silva set her fork down and drew a deep breath before she spoke. “At first they did it with a group of mechs that were still making up their minds—though they’d taken the transports from the Peloponnese System to Albany, so it was pretty much a done deal that they’d sign on with us. Anyway, once those mechs saw that they’d be in mixed platoons, sometimes as the only mech, they knew it would likely be more of what we experienced in the GAF. Silva sweetened the pot by showing them the Mark 4 upgrades, and after that, there wasn’t a lick of doubt. They were all onboard with us.”
“Don’t worry, Rika,” Silva added. “I made extra sure the stragglers were committed during our round of boot.”
“Yeah,” Barne nodded emphatically. “Silva rode them.”
“Shit, Barne, does everything you say have to be laced with innuendo?” Heather asked.
For the second time that meal, Barne placed a hand on his chest and adopted a wounded expression. “It’s like you don’t even know me, Heather.”
“Stay on track,” Rika said, waving her fork in a circle. “You made it sound like they tried to recruit mechs away afterward, too.”
“Sure as shit did.” Silva’s brow lowered and her lips set in a thin line. “I think they got wise to the mechs wanting to be in a mech-only command, so they put out that they were looking to create an all-mech company.”
“What happened after that?” Rika pressed.
Barne laughed. “Oh, this is good.”
Silva leant over, looking past Scarcliff and Chase to give the sergeant major a steely gaze. “You wanna tell it?”
“Sure.”
“Shut up, Barne,” Silva shot back and glared at him, challenging the man to respond. When he wisely kept quiet, she turned back to Rika, a wide grin on her lips. “Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Somehow, the field marshal got wind of the Septhians and their recruitment efforts. Next thing I hear, every Septhian warship in the system is burning for the jump points. Not sure what she said to them, but it seemed to involve some liberal doses of ‘get the hell out’.”