by M. D. Cooper
Katrina barked a laugh while Carl glared at the closest optic. “You know…I’ve fixed your sorry hull up more times than I can count, Troy.”
“He seems happier,” Carl glanced at Katrina. “I didn’t know Troy could be happy. It’s unnatural.”
Katrina turned to the panel and sealed the airlock before replying, “Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t last. Let’s get our clearance and undock so we can go bribe the syndicate controlling the jump gate in this system. I don’t fancy taking the DL and four years to fly to Styx.”
“What are you going to offer him?” Carl asked. “We don’t have any spare CriEns.”
“Was thinking about using a gun this time. What do you think?”
Carl slapped her on the back. “Sounds like my kinda negotiation—a Kara Special. I’ll get the team ready.”
SUMMONS
STELLAR DATE: 10.03.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Ol’ Sam, ISS I2
REGION: Pyra, Albany System, Thebes, Septhian Alliance
Tangel nodded in response as she waited on the maglev platform near her lakehouse, waiting for a car that would take her to the smaller, 61B VIP dock where her ship awaited.
“I understand that, but keeping the I2 here is a useful deterrent. We may have defeated the Nietzschean fleet, but Septhia is still a political mess, and there are fractured nations all around that would pounce on what we’re trying to build here.”
Tangel sighed, looking up at the long sun that ran through the center of the cylinder. “I understand that you feel responsible for what happened to bring about my ascension, but it’s done. And now that it’s done, I’m well able to protect myself. I just spent five days in Keren and was perfectly safe.”
“What do you mean, Bob? I easily dispatched two remnants after flying through space and dissolving a starship hull. Then I leapt through a jump gate—without a helmet, no less—and ended up in the LMC, where I destroyed a very large starship on my own.”
Bob didn’t reply, and Tangel shook her head at the approaching maglev car.
“You think I’m reckless.”
“I’m not, you know. I’ve always been able to process more variables than other people. I can see angles of approach and defense they can’t. I can move faster. I’m stronger. What they see as reckless behavior, I see as entirely reasonable action.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that. Besides, you understand things from my perspective better than anyone.”
A slow rumble flooded Tangel’s mind, and after a moment, she realized that Bob was sighing.
“You need to work on that,” she muttered as the maglev car came to a stop before her. “Sounded like the ship was thrusting without dampeners.”
The car was empty, and Tangel took the seat closest to the door. “OK, Bob, what really has you worried?”
“I’ve noticed,” Tangel said, a wry note to her voice.
“I can imagine.”
She watched the landscape inside the habitation cylinder slide by, and then the maglev dove beneath the surface, through the decks within the cylinder’s skin and through the hull.
Space around the ship was busy. Marauder ships were running through training drills, some Septhian cruisers were in high orbit, and several hundred Theban military craft were also nearby. But the bulk of the activity was from civilian craft, all working to bring supplies to Kendrick’s shipyards, or for the planetary ring’s construction.
Tangel soaked in the view for a few moments before responding.
she replied.
Tangel held out her hand and then reached out into extradimensional space and gathered stray tendrils of electromagnetic energy, drawing it into a ball. In three-dimensional space, it appeared to be a glowing sphere, hovering above her hand, but with the other dimensions in play, it felt more like a solid object. A bit warm, and a little tingly.
She twisted her hand and dispersed the energy back into the space around her, the power that had been visible disappearing from sight as its frequency and amplitude changed.
The maglev car completed its journey along one of the ship’s gossamer arcs and reentered the hull, slowing as it approached dock 61B.
Tangel admitted to herself that hearing high levels of concern from Bob was unnerving. The AI rarely expressed worry over anything, always prepared to cite a mastery of all variables as the basis for his never-ending surety.
The maglev car stopped at the station across from the 61B bay, and Tangel stepped out and walked across the corridor.
Tangel sighed as she entered the bay and gave a resigned nod.
On the far side of the bay, past a dozen dropships, pinnaces, and racks of fighters, lay the ship she had decided to finally take for a spin.
It had been left for her by Amanda, an extra-universal visitor she’d met twice now. Tangel didn’t know how to travel between universes, but Amanda had mastered it to a degree, and come calling after the two of them had met in a mysterious bar a few years back.
While the thought of a busty redhead popping in and out of Tangel’s spacetime didn’t bother her overmuch, she did wonder what other people—or things—may come over from some fork of the multiverse.
Tangel had entertained the idea for some time that the Exdali could be
from somewhere else. They were just so foreign, and didn’t seem to fit with any other type of life that anyone had come across thus far.
Then again, the dark layer is yet another set of dimensions within our little slice of the multiverse. It doesn’t have to operate by the exact same rules as everywhere and everywhen else.
As Tangel approached, the ship—which she hadn’t officially named yet—was lifted off the rack and lowered to a cradle. The craft was sleek and white with a red stripe down one side…rather similar to Amanda, in that respect.
When Amanda had gifted the ship to her, it hadn’t possessed any drive systems, but the interior had been—and still was—luxuriously outfitted.
It had taken a group of engineers just a few days to outfit it with a CriEn for power, stasis shields, a-grav systems, a small AP and fusion drive, and point defense beams.
They’d made much of the strange, gleaming material the hull was constructed of. It wasn’t something that would offer a lot of stealth capability, but with stasis shields in the mix, it wasn’t a big concern.
A laugh slipped past Tangel’s lips.
Tangel saw a squad of ISF Marines standing at the base of the ramp, and spotted Lieutenant Brennen in their midst. None of them had made a move to go up the ramp, and she wondered if there was something wrong.
“Good afternoon, Lieutenant Brennen,” Tangel said as she approached. “Is my ship not to taste?”
“Admiral!” Brennen snapped off a sharp salute as the rest of the Marines followed likewise. “We uhh…well, ma’am, the ship has no name.”
Tangel snapped her fingers. “And once you board, you have to enter it in your platoon’s logs, but with no name, you’d have to make one up. But if you did, you’d be naming it, and then it would be stuck.”
“Right.” Brennen ducked his head. “Normally we’d just use a serial number or class name for the logs, but this bird here has neither. So…we figured we’d just wait for you.”
Tangel placed a finger on her chin, looking up at the ship. “Well, I suppose we could name it after the woman who gifted it to me, Amanda.”
“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but there are already three pinnaces, a destroyer, and two cruisers named ‘Amanda’ in the allied forces.”
“Easy fix,” Tangel snapped her fingers. “The Mandy. Come aboard one and all, we have a jump gate to Aldebaran to catch.”
She walked up the ramp with Brennen in tow and palmed the airlock open.
“That interface is bizarre,” he commented. “Where did you get this ship, Admiral?”
“An ally,” she replied, as they entered the main cabin within the ship, which more resembled an upscale bar. She turned to the Marines. “Make yourselves at home, but don’t rip the upholstery. This stuff is the epitome of irreplaceable.”
As the twelve men and women got settled on the couches and chairs—their bulky armor somehow not stressing the furniture at all, she walked down the short corridor to the cockpit, Brennen following after.
“You rated at all?” Tangel asked, knowing she could look it up, but feeling like engaging in small talk with the man.
“Sure am. I have a few thousand hours under my belt, but not with anything like this—just military craft, and a few planet hoppers back on Carthage.”
“Well, I’ve never flown this either, but the engineers set it up with all our standard flight systems, so it should be a breeze.”
It turned out that there were a few differences in managing the Mandy, but once Tangel got a feel for the craft’s feedback, she had it out of the bay and heading for their assigned gate. As they were on their final approach, Rachel’s voice called out into her mind.
Tangel didn’t miss a beat.
Tangel deployed the Mandy’s forward gate mirror and boosted toward the ring, not slowing to even consider the risks as her new ship’s maiden voyage was a jump to another galaxy.
A SURPRISE VISITOR
STELLAR DATE: 10.03.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Aleutia Station
REGION: Cheshire System, Large Magellanic Cloud
The sisters and Kent had spoken long into the night, discussing everything from the colonel’s homeworld and what types of crops they raised, to military engagements he’d fought in, to what he knew of major bases across Orion space.
Saanvi had returned after a few hours, minus Amy, who had gone to sleep in quarters nearby. She joined in the discussion with great enthusiasm, pressing Kent for what he knew of various advancements and the technology levels he had been exposed to.
When they finally called it quits for the night, Cary felt like her head was filled to bursting with information about the Orion Freedom Alliance.
Much of it corroborated what Jessica knew, but there were many details that were different. She had learned that this was because the regions of the OFA near New Sol operated very differently than the Perseus Arm and the Perseus Expansion Districts.
Moreover, much of what Jessica had learned was from pilfered databases at Costa Station. Kent’s knowledge was firsthand and highlighted the differences between the official records and the reality of life in the trenches.
“We’ll catch a quick breakfast and head back in the morning,” Cary said, stifling a yawn as she spoke. “We’ll want to be rested for the debriefing we’re all going to get.”
“I want you present,” Kent said, his tone carrying a hard edge. “I know how these things go. You warm me up, and then the wolves set in. I get the feeling that everyone will be much better behaved with the vaunted Admiral Richards’ daughter in the room.”
Cary nodded wearily. “You know that neither of us will have full control over what will happen, but I will do my damnedest to see that you’re treated well. I do have some pull with the brass.”
“I can see that,” Kent replied with a chuckle.
* * * * *
The next morning, after a breakfast in the observation lounge—where most of the conversation centered around what a future of extragalactic exploration could hold—the group retraced their path back to the docking bay.
Colonel Ophelia escorted them, but said little following an apology for her behavior the prior day.
Ten minutes later, they were walking down the final corridor toward the docking bay, their time in the LMC nearly over. Cary made herself a solemn promise to return, perhaps with Saanvi, who was already scheming about how to get transferred to the Bolt Hole project.
Amy seemed to have recovered from her outburst the night before. She’d apologized to Cary and Faleena first thing in the morning, and now walked next to Saanvi, swinging her arms freely, chattering about how
she was going to savor her last look at the Milky Way before they jumped back.
Her good mood was infectious, and elicited smiles from the entire group, even Ophelia and the Marines—though they did their best to maintain serious glowers.
The station was busy at the beginning of the first shift, personnel rushing in every direction, headed to wherever their assignments demanded.
A group of warrant officers, drive technician patches on their shoulders, swung out of a room a dozen meters ahead, a few glancing over their shoulders at the platoon of Marines behind them, obviously escorting VIPs.
One of the men in the group stared a moment longer than necessary, his eyes locking with Cary’s before he turned to face forward once more.
Cary accessed his information, and saw that he was Chief Warrant Officer Travers, a member of the first group to have transferred out to the LMC. His record was solidly average, neither impressive, nor lacking. It surprised her that someone who did not stand out had been selected for such an important mission.
I suppose it could be that someone was trying to tuck him out of the way, she mused. Theoretically, nothing was really supposed to happen out here—beyond terraforming a new world or two.
She was about to turn her attention elsewhere, when Travers moved from the center to the edge of his group. The action itself wasn’t that strange, but Cary thought she saw something slide free of his body.
Not his physical body. His extradimensional body.
An instant later, she reached out to Saanvi and Faleena, becoming Trine, and stared into the man in question.
What is he? she wondered.
With her extradimensional sight, Trine could see that CW5 Travers was far more than he appeared to the two-dimensional eye.
Tendrils of transdimensional energy flowed through him, but they did not look like a remnant—those malevolent gifts left behind by ascended beings behaved as separate entities, something that was readily apparent to Trine when she spotted them. Nor did Travers appear to be an ascended being—at least not one like Tangel. Where Trine’s mother blazed with energy that was barely contained within her form, Travers’ extradimensional form appeared wan, barely filling half the volume of his physical body.