by Randal Sloan
Gabo nodded, his implants primed for the release.
The ships fired their missiles, the projectiles shooting past just to the right of their ship, no time for the tiny little brains in the missiles to change their course when the target suddenly wasn’t where they expected it to be. Before the enemy could launch a second attack, they shot into the nebula, Jarra immediately changing their course to take them into the densest area. The pursuing ships had no choice but to come to a stop outside.
Of course, they were also now effectively trapped. “We really need that assistance we were promised. They said less than ten minutes and that was…” Jarra looked at the ships chronometer, “Five minutes ago,” she ended in a surprised voice. “Wow! It sure seemed a lot longer.”
“We should be able to hide in here indefinitely unless they bring in some of their cruisers. A cruiser’s sensors would be strong enough to penetrate this nebula and their weapons powerful enough to stand off and take shots at us.”
“Thanks, Gabo. You’re so encouraging,” Jarra told him, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Multiple contacts. Some are pretty big,” Gabo told them, his last comment coming back to haunt him. What if they were the enemy?
Finally, as everyone caught their collective breaths, waiting to hear if they would live or die, Gabo announced excitedly, “They’re ours! Destroyers, frigates, cruisers.”
The ship’s lights came up and they heard clapping over the coms, a 3D VR of a smiling Commander Crusoe popping up in front of Jarra’s console. “Congratulations! You guys are the first ever to beat the Doomsday Simulation.” His smile turned a little darker. “Looks like I’m going to have to go back and rework the sims before you guys have to re-cert next year. Do your debrief and then take the night off. I want all of you here in my office at 0900 in the morning. We’ve got a mission for you.”
“We’ll be there, sir.” Jarra had to smile. Her team had come together quite well.
#
Sasha was once more on an insane flight aboard a Marine attack shuttle with her escort of Imperial Marines. The last time she had been on this shuttle, she had been escaping from her ‘prison frigate’ as she liked to call it. For a few moments, even that escape had seemed doubtful.
Sasha had immediately started for the shuttle bay once she received her orders to accompany the Marines. Unfortunately for her, she must have taken a wrong turn, because she somehow walked into one of the ship’s cargo compartments, her way blocked. To make matters worse, the two crewmen that had been the most trouble since she’d been aboard intercepted her.
“Lookie what we have here,” Jones said, blocking her path. “It looks like little Miss Saswaa has strayed out of her designated zone. Think we should help her?”
“Reckon we should collect our handling charge first?” Jackson asked him. He moved to block her exit path.
“Listen, guys, I have orders to report to Shuttle Bay 2 and I’m already late. You need to get out of my way.” Sasha tried to reason with them, not that she expected them to listen. Her AI had given her the fastest path to the shuttle bay, but somehow she had missed that last turn and wound up here. She desperately looked for a way out.
“Yeah, well, we were given our own ‘orders’ and they were to take care of you. But our orders didn’t say we couldn’t have a little fun first.”
It was about that time Sasha met her first Imperial Marines. One second the two had been threatening her with physical assault, the next they were both lying on the floor, writhing in pain. Apparently Marine stun guns were much stronger than normal stun guns, packing quite the wallop, not that Sasha cared for their discomfort.
“Come with us, ma’am,” one of the Marines told her.
“You’re safe now,” the other Marine told her, offering her a gentle arm.
He was one of the biggest men Sasha had ever seen, but instead of frightening her, somehow he made her feel safe. Sasha realized she’d been shaking in her fear, but she now relaxed. She regained her composure enough to recognize the insignia the Marine wore.
“Thank you, Master Sergeant. I’m ok now, but I appreciate your concern.”
Sasha thought that was the moment when this group of tough Marines adopted her, although it was some time before she understood what that really meant. Nevertheless, she followed the Marines to their shuttle and managed to survive their intense flight back to the Dauntless. That had been bad enough.
Then a few minutes later, Sasha met her Crown Prince.
#
Gregorio Resault IV, son of Governor Resault of the Rigelus sector, thought of himself as a loyal subject to the Empire and a dutiful son. He was used to getting his way on pretty well everything and he knew his father’s money and influence were responsible for most of that. Greg knew he was lazy and just drifting along. Before today he hadn’t considered what that might mean to him personally. After all, why would he need to worry about any of that?
But at the moment, Greg was struggling with what he had just been sent by his father. It was an encoded document with a very specific set of instructions for opening. Greg had attempted to follow those instructions, although he was never very good at that kind of thing. Too short an attention span. I think I missed a step in there somewhere. Then he read the decoded document and any idea of rereading the instructions flew from his mind.
He’s got to be crazy. This part about my great-grandfather being slighted by the Emperor. Even if it’s true, that’s ancient history. This is really bad and there’s no way he can pull it off. Greg’s face twisted in disgust. It would be even worse if he’s successful. Greg just stared in shock, uncertain of what to do. That last part sounds like a threat!
Greg swore to himself. I know my attitudes about others have been partially colored by my experiences with my father, especially his treatment of women. I knew he never loved my mother and he’s always treated her like crap. I think that’s why I’ve never been successful with a genuine relationship with a girl. Despite all my money, I’ve always managed to screw it up. But not even my father could be so callous as to kill my mother. Could he?
At least I have a few weeks. Gradually a plan worked its way into Greg’s head. I’ve got to take his threat seriously and find a way to get mother away somewhere safe. For now, I’ll just pretend to go along with him. I’m not crazy about our current Empire, but I sure don’t want to be in one run by my father.
Greg knew from the oath he swore upon joining service in the Rim Patrol his duty was to report this to his commanding officer. But that was too risky. What if he really did try to kill my mother? I’ve got to protect her at all costs. No, I can’t risk it; the Empire will just have to take care of itself for a little while.
Thinking about the past year, everything began to make more sense. All those trips out by Father on his private yacht had probably been for secret meetings. And that General. The one I can’t stand. Now I know why he was spending so much time here.
After a few minutes, Greg carefully composed a message back to his father. He did the encryption just like the one he had received had been done. No idea what that temporary memory thing means. I’ll just have to skip over that. Finally the message was ready.
Greg was disgusted by the whole thing, but he told his father he was with him 100%. He even put stuff in there agreeing about needing to make up for the treatment of his great-grandfather.
There, it was done. It was enough he hoped. Trembling, he sent the message. Now I’m guilty of treason, no matter my forced participation. Greg was extremely stressed by the whole thing. He only knew one way to unwind from it all. He headed out to his favorite bar. If I get drunk enough, hopefully I’ll be able to forget about it all for a while.
#
Galen sat eating some of the best dessert he had ever tasted, thinking about what had brought him here, especially events of the last week. They had all come to love and admire their new commander, who apparently still had some surprises for them. He smiled, remembering tonigh
t’s coordinated coup by the group. He suspected Jarra had seen through it from the beginning, but she went along with them.
“We’ve got to go celebrate,” he told Jarra after they finished their debrief. They had come up with a few ideas they might try the next time, since they knew the District Commander would be working to make the simulation even harder.
Jarra looked up in surprise to see all of them nodding, even Gabo. She should have seen that coming and should have been planning it herself. “Ok, where do you want to go? I know absolutely nothing about this city other than what my AI would tell me.”
Galen went on, “I know this great Italian restaurant, if we all pool our resources…”
“Ohh… I love Italian,” Sara chimed in.
Jarra smiled, “No, I’ve got it. I’m extremely proud of my team and they deserve it.”
So the group had gone off together, Galen locking the ship this time and sticking the key in his pocket. He still wondered if Jarra had been serious about hacking it. The more time he spent with her, the more he believed she had been.
The Italian restaurant was as good as Galen had predicted, the food even better than he remembered. That could have been because he’d eaten off the budget menu when he’d been there before and this time Jarra ordered off the full dinner menu. The team’s curiosity about their leader’s mysterious past continued to grow. None of them could have possibly afforded their meal, but none of them dared ask how she could, and they sure weren’t going to turn it down.
After the group watched their boss finish off two shots of expresso, Galen had one more suggestion. “The night’s still young. Why don’t we go to our favorite bar and each of us buy a round in honor of our boss who just paid for the best meal I’ve ever had.”
Once again the others were nodding, so Jarra told them, “No card games. If Greg is there, we all have to just avoid him. I don’t want our team having problems this close to getting our mission.”
“We all learned our lesson about that,” Galen told her. “I’ll behave, I promise.
“Ok. Only one other stipulation. A few drinks are all right, but make sure you keep it to the point that your implants can neutralize the effects in an instant if needed.”
They all easily agreed to that rule; none of them wanted trouble. So they found themselves once more in the noisy bar, the place filled with Rim rats. They had each bought that round and at first Jarra thought Greg would just leave them alone.
Due to the influence of his father, Greg had been able to get a choice assignment. Greg had been feeling good about serving as the third watch officer on the bridge of the Rim Patrol’s premiere cruiser in the district, but he had spent the last several hours listening to his buddies proclaiming the virtues of the newcomer who apparently was trying to show him up. Supposedly she had her own ship and her team had just beaten the impossible Doomsday Scenario.
When the group came in and started celebrating quite loudly, he finally had all he could take. He knew he was quite drunk, because he had disabled the ability of his implants to block the effects of the alcohol. But that was my plan tonight. What would be the point, if I couldn’t get drunk?
Greg managed to stagger over to stand in front of their table, shaking his fist at Jarra. He wasn’t thinking very clearly. “We don’t need your kind of meddling around here. Why don’t you go back to Krestel or wherever it is you came from? I’m thinking Krestel, because you smell just like a Krestel dung rat.”
For a moment Jarra just stared in shock. Krestel dung rats were considered the dirtiest creatures in the galaxy, so at least he got his insult right. What the idiot didn’t know was Krestel was where her mother had died.
Jarra started to rise from the table, her face red and her rage rising faster than her implants could attempt to control it, but she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Excuse me, ma’am. Let us take care of this riffraff. No need for you to sully yourself dealing with him.”
Jarra turned around to face the largest Imperial Marine she had ever seen. Her rage vanished in an instant. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded. As two of his buddies grabbed Greg in the iron-clad grip of marines, she finally managed to get out, “Thank you, Master Sergeant. May your boots press on your enemies’ necks and your blasters burn hot.”
“May your wings take flight and your missiles burn true, My Lady.” With that he was gone, his buddies dragging Greg off to wherever they were taking him to have a little chat. Jarra doubted it would do the boy any good. She had seen way too many of his type herself. That was one of the reasons she was out here.
The mood ruined, the group quietly finished off their drinks; the team members mostly just staring and wondering once more about their much too young commander. How had she known how to talk so to a Master Sergeant of the Imperial Space Marines? And just what had he meant by that reference, “My Lady” at the end? It had sounded way too formal to be merely a term of endearment.
Jarra herself was wondering about a much deeper question. Had they been sent to watch over her? How else could the Master Sergeant have known who she was? Nothing else fit the situation, but that meant something had happened that was worrying her uncle. That of itself was probably bad news.
#
The next morning a rather quiet team was assembled in the galley as Jarra came out of her tiny little commander’s cabin wearing her own dress whites. Jarra was more than a little nervous herself, wondering just what kind of mission they could possibly get. She was proud of her team and knew they would do well, but this time it was for real. No more simulations.
They were all dressed immaculately in dress uniforms, even Gabo. Galen must have helped him. Jarra herself had her wings polished and gleaming and she was wearing the various merit medals she had earned in OCS. She also had on her Medal of Valor, the medal requiring prominence in its display over all the others. Her team was instantly curious, but none of them dared to ask how a young lieutenant straight out of OCS could have such a medal.
Jarra just smiled at their obvious curiosity. If they had asked, she couldn’t have told them anyway. The whole incident was sealed. But she’d earned that medal and she would wear it any time she was in her dress uniform.
“So is everyone ready? We have a few extra minutes. That gives me time to tell my team just how proud I am of you. We’ve only known each other for a few days and I already feel like we’re family. It was all of us together that beat the Doomsday Scenario and it will be all of us together that will face the challenges ahead of us.”
Jarra had to stop before she teared up, so she stood at attention and saluted them. Still in near shock, the team returned her salute and then quietly followed after her as she led the group out the door toward their destiny.
In a few minutes, she would be shaking her head when she learned just what their near future held.
#
District Commander Crusoe was looking forward to meeting with his newest ship’s complement and a little worried about the mission he was going to give them. On the surface of things, the mission seemed simple enough, but his gut was telling him it was a lot bigger than anyone thought. He hoped the team was up to it. But he had his own orders and he would carry them out.
He still hadn’t been able to find out much more about his new lieutenant, but the latest incident only reinforced his beliefs. According to a very reliable source, when the lieutenant had been accosted by the young Resault boy, the boy had been handled by a group of Imperial Marines that just “happened to be in the bar.” His witness had the quick wit to record the incident on his implants and the interaction of the lieutenant with the marine sergeant was quite interesting.
Imperial Marines should have meant an Imperial Navy ship, but no Imperial ship was currently in the District, at least none they knew about. That was another reason the commander suspected something was going on much bigger than what he knew. There had to be a stealthed Imperial ship out there somewhere. Nevertheless, he knew this assignment was the r
ight choice for this team. His gut told him that, too.
The commander’s musings were brought to an end with a ping on his implants regarding the arrival of Lieutenant Jarra and her team. He had his AI direct them to a briefing room and pinged Andy to precede him to the meeting. He also picked up the chip with the official orders that would be presented to Lieutenant Carsean.
“District Commander Crusoe,” Lieutenant Commander Andrew Connors announced as his boss entered the small assembly room, bringing everyone there to attention. Nobody said this job as the assistant to the District Commander was going to be easy, but it certainly wasn’t boring. He knew enough about what was going on to be glad to be in this meeting. Like everyone else, Andy stared in shock at the Medal of Valor the young lieutenant was wearing; his level of access not high enough to know the reason for it, but he dared not ask about it.
“At ease.” Commander Crusoe took the seat at the head of the table and indicated to the others, “Please be seated.” He eventually had found out exactly how Lieutenant Carsean had received that medal, having finally persuaded Imperial HQ that he needed to know, although that only made his questions about her even more acute.
As soon as they were all seated and settled in, the Commander handed the chip to Jarra. “Lieutenant, here are your orders, although I’ll ask you to read them later since I intend to brief the entire team on your mission.” He knew his implant had already sent the official orders to her implant, so once again, the chip was only a formality.
“First, I want to congratulate your team once again for your accomplishments this week, concluding with your successful completion of the Doomsday Scenario. Quite the historic accomplishment and your team has earned a merit award, the first of many I’m sure.”
Connors quickly handed the award medals out to the four. Other than Jarra, the medals were the first they had received, so they were astonished by the whole process. Jarra just smiled, pride for her team the utmost in her thoughts.