by Ryk Brown
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Cameron teased. “But if you want to get some exercise, you’re welcome to come lend a hand on the Celestia.”
“Yeah, I heard you guys have been busting hump around the clock.”
“You heard the admiral. He’s kicking us out of dry dock in eighteen days, ready or not.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Nathan said, taking a bite of his dinner.
“It’s not like we’re not space-worthy,” Cameron insisted. “Pretty much everything important that needs to be done to the exterior has been completed. We’ve just got to finish wiring up the secondary jump emitter array, install the second pair of jump field generators, and then connect the mounts for additional turrets. Like he said, the rest we can do in orbit.”
“What about all your external doors?” Vladimir wondered. “They are all still off, no?”
“Yes, they are, but we’re not putting them back on. As long as we’re running shields, we don’t need them.”
“How about if you need to service one of your point-defense turrets, or your quads?” Vladimir asked.
“They installed collars around the turret bases, so that an external repair bay can be connected to the hull, completely covering the weapon in a pressurized maintenance bay. We’re even going to carry one in our hangar deck that a utility shuttle can carry out and put into place.”
“What about the quads?” Nathan wondered. “They’re huge.”
“Those will have to be serviced in port,” she explained. “It’s all about a change in mission profile, Nathan. The explorer class ships were designed to be out for years at a time, so we had to carry consumables, propellant, accommodations, hell, the Aurora even has a movie theater and a huge recreation facility.”
“It needs an ice rink,” Nathan muttered as he sipped his drink.
“The point is, we had a lot of wasted space and a lot of design features that, while logical for long duration missions of exploration and diplomacy, made no sense for combat missions that don’t even last a week.”
“But what if they do last more than a week?” Nathan asked. “If our jump drive failed while we’re away, we could be stranded for weeks just waiting for help.”
“That’s why we’re getting two separate jump drive systems,” Cameron reminded him. “That, and it doubles our jump range between charging cycles.”
“Now that part I agree with,” Nathan admitted.
“Wait until you see the new forward launch tubes,” Cameron exclaimed. “Fifty percent wider, twenty-five percent taller, and twenty-five percent longer. They have three catapults built into the deck instead of the sides, just like the old aircraft carriers used to have. Two short, and one longer one down the center. We’ll be able to launch pretty much anything that fits inside, plus they can be used as an entrance in a pinch.”
“You were going to show me where they were putting the super cannons,” Nathan reminded her.
“Oh yeah,” she replied, reaching for her data pad, “but they’re not called super cannons anymore. They’re called mark one, mark two, mark three, and mark four. Ones are the little guys, like on the Falcon and the combat jumpers. The mark one cannons were also used to replace all of our mini rail guns, the ones we use for point-defense. Except now they’re quads instead of twins, so they can lay down a lot more defensive fire. The original plasma cannon turret that you gave us used mark twos, and our fore and aft torpedo tubes use mark threes.”
“So the old super cannons were mark fours then,” Nathan surmised. “Is that what they’re installing under your bow?”
Cameron leaned back in her chair and smiled as if her child had just brought home an award. “Mark fives.”
“What are mark fives?” Nathan wondered.
“The big boys that the Karuzara uses to attack ships at a distance.”
“Bozhe moi,” Vladimir exclaimed.
“Wait, it gets better,” Cameron said, almost giggling. “The lateral track on all four cannons can be adjusted. They can fan out slightly, fire in parallel, or all focus on the same point, ten kilometers out. When we install the broadside cannons in the utility bays, the mark twos will be able to do the same thing.”
“Jesus,” Nathan exclaimed.
“That’s brilliant!” Vladimir added. “Was that your idea?”
“I wish. It was your friend Tilly’s idea.”
Nathan sighed. “Maybe Dumar’s right. Maybe we can stand toe-to-toe with a battle platform.”
“Can you imagine how much fire power we could put on a single shield section, with two ships doing time-on-target attacks with those mark fives?” Cameron exclaimed.
“It might work on a battleship,” Vladimir admitted, “but not on a platform. Weaken them noticeably? Yes. Maybe a fifty percent drop, if you can get enough shots in, but complete collapse? No.”
“Can the mark fives fire triplets?” Nathan asked.
“No, singles only, and no more than one shot per cannon every fifteen seconds. Even with all the extra heat exchangers they put on the bottom of our hull.”
“So a sustained fire-rate of a shot every four seconds,” Nathan nodded. “Not bad. Maybe they can add more heat exchangers and get us a quicker fire-rate?”
“Doubtful,” Vladimir said. “It’s not the number of heat exchangers that is limiting. It is the amount of transfer area around the plasma generators themselves. The mark fives are very powerful, a lot of heat to get rid of, I’m afraid. I am surprised they can get it down to fifteen seconds.”
“No matter how you look at it, both our ships are getting a lot more fire power.”
“More importantly, we’re getting shields,” Vladimir reminded them both. “I cannot begin to make you understand how happy that makes me.”
Nathan sighed, leaning back in his chair as he gazed at the design specs on Cameron’s data pad. “We really could have used all of this yesterday.”
“What happened yesterday wasn’t your fault, Nathan,” Cameron insisted. “You did what any of us would have done… You tried to give them a way to survive.”
“But at what cost?”
“At no cost,” Cameron argued.
“I nearly handed the Jung a jump drive, Cam.”
“But you didn’t.”
“We still don’t know that for sure.”
“For all we know, they got one a long time ago. Maybe they had the plans for it all along and we just haven’t seen it yet. Maybe they’re working on it right now. There are a lot of maybes, Nathan. Besides, if you would’ve had that much fire power yesterday, we wouldn’t have another Jung battleship to add to our fleet today,” Cameron said.
“And I would not have a new and interesting project tomorrow,” Vladimir added. “This, of course, means that I will not be cooking for you for awhile, Nathan.”
“I think I’ll survive.”
* * *
“What’s with all the girls?” Jessica asked Master Sergeant Jahal as she walked across the tarmac toward him. “The Ghatazhak having a slumber party?”
“They are prisoners,” the master sergeant stated, fighting back a smile, “from the Jar-Benakh.”
Jessica stopped next to the master sergeant, turning to look at the group of women as they disembarked from the cargo shuttle. There were at least fifty of them, all dressed quite nicely in feminine attire of a fashion she had not seen before. “I thought the Jung didn’t have women in their military.”
“To my knowledge they do not.”
“Captain’s harem, then?”
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose,” the master sergeant replied. “Most of them were found in a dormitory of sorts, however, others were found hiding in various officer’s quarters throughout the ship, mostly those of higher rank.”
“Mis
tresses, perhaps?”
“It would not be the first time I have heard of such arrangements. Many nobles, serving on board imperial ships, had similar personnel. They usually referred to them as ‘housekeepers’, or ‘personal assistants.’”
“Very personal, right?” Jessica commented, poking the master sergeant in the side with her elbow. When she got no response, she turned to look at him. “What’s the deal, Master Sergeant, you’re usually so jovial. Someone kick your dog?”
“No, my commander.”
“Ah… Shook him up a bit, did I?”
“Do not flatter yourself, Lieutenant Commander. You are not capable of ‘shaking up’ Commander Telles, or any other Ghatazhak, for that matter. However, you might want to review the commander’s after-action reports before you attempt to—how do you Terrans put it—‘get in his face’ over his failure to rescue your associate.”
“I see,” Jessica replied, nodding her understanding. “Look, I know that the Ghatazhak don’t have a problem leaving people behind, for the ‘good of the mission’ and all that, but us Terrans, we don’t like leaving our people behind.”
Master Sergeant Jahal turned and looked Jessica in the eyes. “You left Sergeant Weatherly behind—for the good of the mission—did you not? Or was it to save your own skin? Perhaps that is why you are so upset that the commander had to leave Miss Avakian behind?”
Jessica’s expression became as cold as ice, as she stepped closer to the master sergeant. She stared up into his steadfast gaze, unflinching. “You’re just begging for an ass-kicking, aren’t you, Master Sergeant?”
“Please…… Sir.”
Jessica stood there staring at him for several seconds. Finally, she stepped back. “Another time, perhaps. We’re short enough of you boys as it is,” she added as she stepped back further and turned to walk away. “There may be a woman named Kaya Allemahn among them,” Jessica called back to the master sergeant. “Isolate her. I’ll be back to question her later.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
Naralena followed Gerard and his two men as they continued along the trail that followed the perimeter of the mountain lake. They had spent all night in the back of one of the CLA’s smuggling vans in order to get as far away from the city as possible. After ditching the van in the river at dawn, they had spent the entire day hiking the river trail up into the mountains. After ascending at least a thousand meters, they had come to a lake, which they had spent the afternoon circumnavigating. There had been little discussion during their journey, partly because two of the men only spoke Koharan, and partly because they preferred to save their energy for the hike up the mountain.
Gerard stopped, kneeling down in the tall grass of the meadow that had just appeared beyond the forest. He signaled for his men to circle around, which they did so immediately.
“What is it?” Naralena whispered.
“Our destination.”
“Great.” Naralena looked around. “Then why aren’t we going there?”
“We must be sure that it is unoccupied at the moment.”
“I don’t understand. Doesn’t it belong to you?”
“Yes, but we cannot be too cautious.”
“Okay. Cautious is good,” Naralena agreed, kneeling down behind him. “I like cautious.” She pulled out her last piece of rations. It was a chewy, overly sweet mixture of grains and dried berries, with a slightly bitter taste. It was not appetizing but, as far as she could tell, it was nutritious.
She gazed out across the meadow from her position behind Gerard. The grass was an unusual lime-green, unnaturally vibrant in its coloring. It was quite different than the grass she had seen on Earth during her few visits to the surface, and it was even more different than the blue-gray vegetation that covered such areas on her homeworld of Volon. Still, it was better than Haven had been, where there was little growth other than the dead-looking tiga trees, dusty scrub brush and, of course, molo. She did not miss that place, and she thanked destiny that the Aurora pulled her from it.
She sat there, thinking about Jessica, the Alliance, and about Sergeant Weatherly who, despite her best efforts, kept creeping back into her mind to haunt her. She was sweaty, dirty, and thirsty, and she was tired. She knew the Alliance would come for her. She knew Jessica would not leave her behind. If there was a way, Jessica would find it.
If there was a way.
Naralena had almost fallen asleep, her head hanging low between her drawn up knees, when a gentle touch on her back startled her.
“I believe it is clear,” Gerard said, rising to his feet.
“Finally,” she sighed, taking his hand to steady herself as she stood. She followed him toward the cabin in the middle of the meadow, as the other two men approached from opposite sides. For a moment, she wondered how it might look if someone were already inside that cabin, looking out at such men, approaching cautiously from different directions. It was hardly inconspicuous, in spite of Gerard’s insistence that they be as stealthy as possible.
The cabin itself was not much to look at. It appeared to be prefabricated and had been placed unceremoniously in the middle of the meadow. Beside it, a small creek stretched from the nearby hills on the left down to the lake not a hundred meters away on the opposite side. Now that they were deep into the meadow, she could see that the forest parted at the shore to reveal the lake beyond.
She followed Gerard up onto the front patio. He placed his hand on the control pad, and the door unlocked and swung slightly inward of its own accord. He pushed it open further with his foot, trying not to rush in while also trying not to look abnormally apprehensive. The interior of the cabin was dark, with the storm shutters blocking any light. He reached to the side and turned on the interior lighting and looked about.
His two compatriots converged on the front patio at that moment and followed him in, moving quickly about the cabin as they checked every room. After a minute, Gerard gestured for her to enter as well.
Naralena entered the cabin and looked around. It was dusty, and somewhat spartan in its decor, but it appeared to have all the comforts of home. A functional kitchen, a dining table, and a living area focused around a large stone fireplace. The ceilings were tall and there were doors on either side of the fireplace. An open staircase along the far wall led up to a walkway above the fireplace and beyond that, to two additional doors. “How long are we to stay?” she asked.
“Until your people come, or until it is no longer safe, whichever comes first,” Gerard answered. “The master bedroom is to the right and the only bathroom is to the left. We will occupy that room, the men will occupy the rooms upstairs.”
“We?” she asked.
“If we are to appear as a normal couple that have brought two good friends to our cabin for a relaxing vacation of fishing, hiking, and hunting, we must play the part. Do not worry,” he added with a smile, “I shall be sleeping on the couch.”
“How will we contact the Alliance?” she asked.
“There is a hidden doorway, behind the towel cabinet in the bathroom. It leads to a small root cellar. Communications gear and weapons are stored there.”
“Then we should begin listening for broadcasts as soon as possible,” she said.
“It is too soon,” he warned. “The communications gear does emit a detectable energy signal. Weak, but detectable. Should someone be monitoring the area, they might discover us. We should wait a day or two, maybe even three. We will explore the area, check out how many of our neighbors are in attendance, and look for any unusual activity. If we see no cause for alarm, then we will activate the communications gear.”
“Very well. What do we do now, then?”
“My men will go out and canvas the area to be sure that no one is watching us. Meanwhile, I will begin making dinner. If you like, you may wash up.”
“Is there running water?”
“Yes, from the creek that flows behind the cabin…and heat, from geo-thermal systems deep underground.”
“Wonderful,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief.
* * *
Deliza sat in the common area of their suite in one of Aitkenna’s finest hotels, studying her data pad.
“What are you doing?” Yanni asked as he entered the room.
“I’ve been studying the technical drawings of the 402s, the ship my father used to have on Haven, the one they call a ‘Falcon’ now.”
“What about them?” he asked as he sat down next to her.
“It occurred to me that the Alliance has not been using them effectively.”
“How do you mean?”
“They have been using them as both interceptors and to attack surface targets, usually in support of surface actions.”
“I was under the impression that the Falcons were quite effective in those roles.”
“They are, but only because they are big and powerful ships. But much of their space is wasted on systems that are of little use to the Alliance.”
Yanni moved closer to her on the couch, looking at the data pad that she held. “Such as?”
“Well, the lift systems, for one. It was designed and built for the Paleans. Palee is small and quite rocky, with very little flat land. Runways were difficult to build, and the atmosphere was rather thin, as well as having a much lower gravity than most human-inhabited worlds. The Falcons were designed to takeoff and land vertically, from surface bases. They have poor aerodynamic characteristics, which they made up for with brute force. But they were designed to be deep-space interceptors—to patrol the borders of the Palean system and engage any intruders. They were fast, with incredible acceleration, and were equipped with FTL systems.”
“They sound like excellent ships to me.”
“But the Earth has lots of flat, level land. Even the airbase at Porto Santo has runways. There is no reason to waste all that space with powered lift systems.”