Shots slammed into the heavy ornamental planters that Carmen, Dominic, and his soldiers were using as cover. Even though the flowers and bushes once intended for them had never been planted, the soil, once hopefully loaded into the planters, helped protect against enemy fire, while the weeds growing where carefully tended vegetation had been planned for helped mask sight of the defenders.
As the rebel force on the left pushed against Dominic’s platoon, the whine of turbines announced the arrival of help. Carmen saw the manta shape of an aerospace craft glide overhead, pumping out shots that riddled and blew apart the road barriers where the first rebel force was taking cover. She sighted through her scope, recording the action for uploading to the intelligence office back at the capital city, Lodz.
Her elation was short-lived, as two missiles leapt up from different places along the rebel-held side of the spaceport. The aerospace craft began hurling out flares, chaff, and other countermeasures as the missiles each split into a dozen submunitions, all weaving through the air toward their target.
The countermeasures threw off most of the submunitions, but one got through, exploding and tearing a hole in one wing of the aerospace craft. “Cover him!” Dominic yelled to his platoon, firing to keep the rebels from targeting the wounded warbird as it staggered away, the pilot fighting to maintain control. Shots erupted all over the spaceport area as the rebels tried to down the fleeing aerospace craft and the defenders did their best to force the rebels to seek cover.
“When did the rebels get shoulder-fired Snipes?” Dominic shouted at Carmen. “That’s the first time I’ve seen them used!”
“Me, too,” she said, one eye on her scope as she continued recording the activity. “We didn’t get any reports that the rebel forces had acquired those missiles. At least this will be proof the enemy has Snipes.”
“They’ve got better, newer equipment than we do,” Dominic complained as the warbird wobbled past overhead on its way back to the “temporary” forward air support base that had already been in use for five months. “What’s it going to take to convince other star systems that these fake ‘rebels’ are an invasion being bankrolled by worlds like Apulu?”
“Those other star systems know what’s happening,” Carmen told him. “They’re still too scared of becoming targets themselves. I hope Lochan Nakamura can talk some sense into them. I know he’s trying.”
Dominic shook his head. “What about Glenlyon? Weren’t they going to send us something?”
Carmen shook her head slightly, her eye sighting through the scope toward the rebel positions. “If what I’ve heard is true, Glenlyon is going to have its hands full trying to defend itself. Star systems like Apulu, Scatha, and Turan are putting pressure on new human colonies all over this region of space. Damn,” she added as a red warning symbol appeared on her scope. “The rebel jamming is too strong here. I need to get back so I can upload my scope video of those Snipes being used.”
“It’s funny how often your intelligence collection trips to the front happen to end up where I am.”
“That is a strange coincidence, isn’t it?” Carmen said, smiling at him for a moment.
His look back at her stayed serious. “You know, Carmen, you could always marry me and make the whole thing official.”
“Why would a cop want to marry a Red?”
“He got to know her,” Dominic said. “I know it’s insane, but I don’t want to give up hope that there’s a good tomorrow for this world and this star system. And maybe even for you and me.”
Carmen looked at him for a moment, her thoughts whirling inside her, before shrugging. “Hope got me off Mars when a good future seemed impossible for me. Maybe I’ll take you up on that marriage thing.”
“I hope you don’t wait too much longer,” Dominic said as a rebel shot rocked the planter they were hiding behind. “You never know what’ll happen.”
“I learned that when I was very young,” Carmen said. Their conversation was interrupted as mortars thumped somewhere off to the left, hurling their deadly projectiles into the sky to bumble down onto defenders supposedly safe behind improvised barricades. “Indirect fire incoming,” a voice warned over Carmen’s headset.
Other mortars whomped well behind Carmen as her own side fired back at the rebel mortars. Hopefully the counter-battery fire would destroy the enemy artillery, but more likely the rebel mortars were already on vehicles, moving away from where they had launched their barrage. The duel might go on for hours, the rebels trying to wear down the defenders, and the defenders trying to knock out the rebel weapons.
Dominic looked to either side at his platoon. “Everyone shift positions one hundred meters to the right. They have too good an idea of where we are and might drop mortar rounds here. Stay under cover as you move.”
Carmen stayed with him as they scuttled to new positions. She watched as he slid behind another planter, this one filled with weeds crowned by small, brilliant, orange blossoms, and leveled his rifle through the stalks of vegetation, being careful not to disturb the pretty flowers. Rebel snipers would be watching for that.
She reached out to squeeze his arm. “Be careful, Domi.”
“You, too, Red.”
What was normally an insult aimed at people from Mars had somehow become an affectionate nickname between them. Carmen grinned, but the smile quickly faded as she cast a cautious glance toward the rebel positions. With a nod to Dominic she turned and headed back, staying low again to avoid exposing herself to rebel snipers.
The so-called rebels were getting more help from off-world. If Kosatka was going to defeat them, it would need help as well. But Lochan had been keeping her up to date on his diplomatic efforts, and the ugly truth was that the rebels had a lot more “friends” in other star systems than Kosatka seemed to.
* * *
• • •
Far above the fighting in Ani, Lochan Nakamura, ambassador at large for the Kosatka Star System, walked slowly toward one of the bars on the facility orbiting the world also called Kosatka. A lot of businesses were struggling under the pressure of the conflict wearing away at Kosatka, but the bars were doing all right. Bars always thrived during uncertain times.
He paused at a single display panel showing the view of the world below, where night covered most of the largest continent, home to most of Kosatka’s settlers. Patches of light marked the cities of Lodz and Drava, but the place where Ani lay was as dark as the unpopulated regions. Lochan knew that if he zoomed in enough the sparkle of gunfire and explosions might be visible amid that darkness. But otherwise the combatants let the night shadow their movements and their actions. Small portions of Ani had once shone with light in the evenings, but those had been swallowed by the darkness over six months ago.
When it came to visualizing what was happening to Kosatka, and to Glenlyon, and what had already swallowed Hesta, spreading darkness was as good a way of seeing it as any. If only he could get other star systems to understand that before the darkness reached them.
“Lochan!”
Lochan looked down the bright, almost sterile corridor of the orbital station at the woman hastening his way. Even from a distance it was easy to see the emerald-green streaks in her hair that told Lochan who she was and where she was from.
He’d noticed that in a lot of the nationalities and ethnic groups who’d come directly from Old Earth. While finding homes for themselves on new worlds, they also displayed a tendency to be almost flamboyant about the symbols and other characteristics that helped define and identify them. “We can be ourselves out here,” one had told him. “Take pride in who our ancestors were and who we are and make no apology for being that.” Lochan could understand that feeling. Even on the Old Colony world of Franklin he had felt the pressure to conform, to minimize differences so as to supposedly minimize offending and maximize being able to live in mixed groups without friction. Intended to reduce c
hances of more conflicts like those that had battered Old Earth throughout human history, such policies had left many people feeling suffocated.
But now they were free thanks to the new jump drives that had allowed humanity to rapidly expand into new star systems, opening world after new world to whoever could raise the money and enough fellow settlers to stake claims to planets where humans had never before walked. Free to fulfill the age-old dream of futures without limits. It was a heady feeling, Lochan knew, like the buzz from a good, stiff drink. But just as too many drinks eventually turned that buzz into a painful headache, the fixations on differences and independence were keeping people apart who needed each other if they were going to stay free. Leave me alone was a fine enough sentiment when all was well, but it had its drawbacks when your house caught on fire and there wasn’t anyone around to help put it out. If the likes of Scatha and Apulu continued to expand their control of space, this burst of freedom might turn into a brief blip in the long, troubled history of humanity.
Brigit Kelly reached him, breathing a little fast because of her quick walk, everything else about her face and voice telegraphing bad news. “I just got a dispatch from Eire that came in on the ship that jumped into the star system this morning. They’re not ready to commit.”
He nodded, trying not to let his full disappointment show. “For the same reason?”
“Yes. Lochan, my ancestors fought for freedom for their country. My people came out to Eire Star System to be free, not to be giving up our freedoms to others. It’s hard to convince my people that we need to think of such a thing less than five years after landing on a new world.”
“They wouldn’t be giving up much! It’s just a mutual defense agreement.”
“With a star system like Kosatka that’s already got internal fighting going on,” Brigit said, her voice growing sharp. “I’m trying to convince my people, Lochan! But you could give me a better case of need to work with!”
“That’s not internal fighting,” Lochan explained, wondering how many times he had said that to how many different ambassadors and representatives of various star systems. “It’s an invasion wrapped in a false flag of rebellion. If Eire won’t help Kosatka, how about Glenlyon? Have you heard?”
“No. What’s happened at Glenlyon?”
“We finally got news that one of their warships was destroyed at Jatayu trying to escort a freighter from Glenlyon through to Kosatka. The ships that did it were from Scatha.”
“That’s war. Scatha’s claimed Jatayu, but that’s not grounds for shooting.”
“Then that should convince everyone of what we’re facing and what we have to do!”
“It won’t, which you know as well as I.” Brigit looked around at the bare walls. “Remember back in the Old Colonies, and on Old Earth, where a corridor like this would be lined with virtual scenery?”
“Yeah,” Lochan said. “What’s your point?”
“We’re not back on Old Earth, or in the Old Colonies anymore, Lochan, but too many people think we still are even though so much has changed. They think if things get bad enough, Earth will step in and fix it all, the mother looking after her children.”
“Earth doesn’t even have a space fleet anymore! The mother has sent her children to the stars and turned her back on them.”
“Not quite. The mother’s selling her babies guns and ships to kill each other with. There’s money to be made, don’t you know.” Brigit sighed and nodded to Lochan. “There’s another ship heading for Eire tomorrow. I’ll try to convince my people to weigh in for Glenlyon.”
“If they don’t help Glenlyon,” Lochan said, repeating another argument used many times without much success, “then Glenlyon won’t be there to help them when they need it.”
“We know the value of friends, Lochan. My people have to be convinced that those like Glenlyon are friends worth helping, friends who won’t demand too much of us, and friends who could be counted on if we’re in need.”
Lochan nodded again, feeling tired.
How had he ended up with this apparently thankless and endlessly frustrating job after arriving at Kosatka? If he’d never met Mele Darcy on the way out from Franklin, hadn’t let her convince him that maybe he could do something positive with his life, he might be running another failing business into the ground instead of beating his head against walls trying to convince people to do what any fool could see was in their own best interests.
Mele was probably still at Glenlyon, and if he knew anything about her it was that she’d be in the forefront of any effort to defend her new home against Scatha and the other New Tyrannies trying to create empires where others had seen opportunities for freedom. Warriors like Mele fought. Lochan knew that he’d be a lousy warrior. But he could do his best to help Mele by trying to get her the allies he was sure she needed.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Lochan told Brigit. “I hope you can convince them. Otherwise, there may not be any friends left by the time everyone makes up their minds that they need friends.”
CHAPTER 2
It felt oddly like entering hostile territory when Rob Geary walked off the shuttle, through the short boarding tube, and onto the closet-sized quarterdeck of the Saber, the flagship and only remaining ship in the Space Defense Forces of Glenlyon Star System.
Or perhaps not so odd, Rob thought as he watched a startled ensign snap to attention.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we weren’t notified of your visit,” the ensign stammered.
“My visit?” Rob wasn’t happy to be here. Leaving Ninja this morning had been tough, even though she’d tried to hide her worries. The brand-new commander insignia he wore on a brand-new uniform felt uncomfortable. And the lack of notice to the quarterdeck that he was coming went beyond disrespect into a whole new problem area. “I want Commander Welk here. He has two minutes.”
“Sir, the acting commanding officer is—”
“He now has one minute, fifty-five seconds.”
Welk came out the hatch with ten seconds to spare, glaring at Rob. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Rob held up his comm unit, his orders displayed on it. “I hereby officially take command of this warship in the name of the government of Glenlyon. You were notified that I was on my way. Why wasn’t the quarterdeck informed?” he asked Welk as the ensign tried to fade into the nearest bulkhead so he wouldn’t be between Rob and Commander Welk.
Welk glowered at Rob. “We’re in the process of renegotiating our contracts—”
“Wrong. You’re in the process of trying to get out of your contracts. They remain fully in effect, and you are in violation of your obligations.” Rob pointed back the way he’d come. “You’re relieved of all duties and detached from this ship. The shuttle is still there. Get on it. Your personal effects will be packed up and sent down to the planet.”
“I will not—!” Welk stopped speaking as Mele Darcy stepped onto the quarterdeck from the shuttle. Wearing a tough, black skin suit designed for use under battle armor, she didn’t need to be physically large to instantly dominate the small compartment.
“Do you need me?” she asked Rob, eyeing Welk.
“Commander Welk needs an escort onto the shuttle,” Rob said, glad that he had asked Mele to be along just in case things got difficult. “Commander Welk, I assume you’ve met Captain Darcy, the senior officer for Glenlyon’s new Marine force.”
Mele smiled at Welk, but it wasn’t the sort of smile that anyone would want aimed at them. “Mind your step, Commander,” she said, gesturing toward the shuttle.
Welk turned a furious gaze on Rob. “Good luck operating this ship without a crew!” Turning, he stalked off the ship and down the loading tube to the shuttle.
Composing his voice and his expression, Rob looked at the ensign, who gazed back, terrified. “You’re . . . ?”
“Ensign Justin Torre
s, sir!”
“Thank you, Ensign Torres.” Rob wondered briefly if he was any relation to the Corbin Torres who had offered as little support as possible to him three years before but decided that was unlikely. From his accent, Ensign Torres had come here directly from Earth. “Announce my arrival and call all officers to an immediate meeting in the wardroom.”
“Yes, sir!” Torres tapped the ship’s general announcing system panel, then rapped a small pad quickly two times, producing the “bong bong” sound of a bell ringing twice, then repeated it for two more bongs. “Saber, arriving,” he announced. “All officers, your immediate presence is requested in the wardroom.”
“Thank you. Can you monitor the wardroom from here, seeing and hearing what’s going on?”
“Yes, sir. But I’m not supposed to do things like that which distract from my duties on the quarterdeck.”
“You’re authorized to do it this time. I want you to hear what I say to the other officers. Oh, and seal the outer hatch here to make sure Commander Welk does not come back on this ship before that shuttle departs.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rob went through the internal hatch leading aft into a narrow passageway that led to the wardroom, Mele following. As they entered the officers’ wardroom, Mele stayed by the door while Rob went to stand at the front, fighting down nerves.
The small compartment with a rectangular dining table dominating it was large enough to hold all the officers with little room to spare. Rob waited as they came, casting wary eyes at him and especially wary looks at Mele Darcy. Five lieutenants, five ensigns, one warrant officer. They formed two lines facing him, lieutenants in front and ensigns and the warrant in the back.
“Good morning,” Rob said. “I’m Commander Geary, your new commanding officer.” He noticed most of the officers reacting with surprise, surreptitiously looking around for Commander Welk as if just realizing his absence. “Commander Welk has been relieved and has left the ship.”
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