by Ryk Brown
“The closest one was two light hours out from Rakuen.”
“We can’t let them get a recon drone inside that distance,” Cameron insisted, “or they’ll see that the Aurora is gone.”
“She’s right,” Nathan agreed. “Once we jump away, not a single recon drone can get within that two-light-year perimeter.”
“That’s not going to be easy,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda warned. “That’s a lot of space to cover, and those drones only jump in for a few minutes at a time.”
“How many drones have they averaged over the past few weeks?” Nathan wondered.
“One every few days, or so,” the lieutenant commander replied.
“Maybe discovering that the Aurora is not here would be a good thing?” Cameron suggested. “Maybe they won’t attack.”
“No way they’d pass up an opportunity to crush our industrial support while it’s undefended,” Nathan insisted.
“The Dusahn would not assume the Aurora was gone based on a single recon scan revealing its absence. It would take several scans from various angles to confirm.”
“They’ll attack no matter what,” Nathan reiterated. “The question is what they’ll attack.” Nathan took a deep breath and sighed. “Send the Glendanon to the Orswellan system, best possible jump speed, but instruct them not to enter the system until they receive orders to do so.”
“They’ll need time to load supplies, fuel, and ordnance,” Cameron pointed out.
“We can use boxcars for that. Tell Captain Gullen to send us a list, and we’ll have boxcars deliver what he needs at one of his recharge layover points.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Cameron replied.
* * *
“These two are ready to go,” Abby announced.
“Shouldn’t they be tested?” Talisha asked.
“Yes, but I’ve got all your pilots helping out with the mods on the other ships,” Abby replied.
“We need to move them to the surface, right?”
“Correct,” Abby replied. “We were going to move them all at once, though.”
“I’ll take one down to the surface, putting it through its paces on the way, then use that flight profile for the rest of the ships, so their AIs can fly them down.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes,” Talisha assured her. “The AIs can do anything a human can do, and do it better. They just can’t depart or fire without human authorization. The AIs are programmed to recognize myself, Commander Prechitt, and Commander Verbeek as command authorization for the entire wing.”
“What about their pilots?” Abby wondered.
“You need them here. They can be shuttled down to the surface, once all the ships are complete.”
“Great,” Abby agreed. “I’ll leave all that to you, then.”
“My pleasure,” Talisha replied, climbing up the boarding ladder to the first modified Nighthawk.
* * *
“They’re not all going to fit, sir,” the deck boss insisted.
Commander Prechitt stood in the middle of the Aurora’s flight operations center, looking at the view screens showing the Aurora’s various flight aprons, decks, hangars, and transfer airlocks. “Park as many as you can on the aprons for now. Once the Nighthawks are out of the main bay, we’ll have more room.”
“It still won’t be enough,” the deck boss argued.
Commander Prechitt glanced at the clock. “We still have at least an hour before the Dusahn start decelerating. I need every Gunyoki within our jump envelope when the time comes. I don’t care if they’re hovering in layers in the recovery bays, as long as every one of them is inside by the time we jump.”
“Those pilots are going to be spending a lot of time in the cockpit,” the controller commented.
“With the patrol schedules they’ve been keeping, they’re used to it,” the commander insisted. “Besides, when the Glendanon gets to Orswella, they’ll all fit inside her with ease. Just make sure you don’t block the exit path for those Nighthawks.”
“They’re all cycling out the top pad,” the deck boss replied. “They’ve been departing in pairs.”
“How many are left?”
“Four, and they should be done within the hour.”
“Then, I guess I’d better suit up,” the commander said. “Good luck, Lieutenant.”
“You too, sir.”
* * *
Vladimir stepped through the service hatch at the bottom of the energy-bank containment compartment. Behind him, two more technicians, both of them just as dirty and sweaty as their boss, walked through the hatch after him. Vladimir tapped his comm-set. “Engage the power trunk to the starboard stack at ten percent.”
“Give me a moment,” the technician replied over his comm-set.
Vladimir looked at the other technicians. “You connected the last two banks, right?”
“I thought you did,” one of the technicians said.
“Oh bozhe,” Vladimir exclaimed.
“I’m kidding, Commander,” the technician admitted.
“Not funny,” Vladimir scolded.
“Starboard stack is engaged and charging at ten percent, max,” Vladimir’s comm-set squawked.
Vladimir leaned inside the hatch, peering up at the tall stack of energy cells filling the space. “Take it to twenty, and check for wave variance.”
“Twenty, standby.”
“It’s good, sir,” one of the technicians insisted.
“No variance at twenty,” the technician on his comm-set reported.
“Take it to fifty and check,” Vladimir instructed.
“Taking it up to fifty.”
“We connected it the same way we connected the port stack, and it’s been charging at one hundred and twenty percent of max load for over an hour,” the first technician said.
“Looks good at fifty.”
Vladimir took a deep breath and sighed. “Take it up to one-twenty.”
“One-twenty it is.”
“And keep a close eye on it,” Vladimir added.
“Better close the hatch and crank up the fans,” the second technician said. “It’s going to get hot in there.”
“One-twenty, and still no variances.”
Vladimir looked over at his two technicians, smiling. “We did it.”
“Hell yes, we did!”
Vladimir tapped his comm-set again. “Captain, Cheng. Energy stacks are online and charging. You should have long-range jump capability within an hour.”
“Good work, Commander,” Nathan congratulated. “I knew you could do it.”
Vladimir deactivated his comm-set, taking it off his head. “Honestly, I wasn’t so sure.”
* * *
“I hate this peek-and-boo shit,” Sergeant Nama complained from his sensor console in the Falcon. “Where did that stupid name come from, anyway?”
“A children’s game from Earth,” Lieutenant Teison said. “And it’s ‘peek-a-boo’.”
“Still, a stupid name.”
“What would you call it?” Ensign Lassen wondered.
“I don’t know. Quick-scan and repeat? Momentary contact scans? Peek and retreat? Anything but peek-a-boo.”
“At least you only have to do thirty seconds of work, once, every fifteen minutes,” Ensign Lassen defended. “We have to constantly recalculate jumps back and forth, up and down, in and out. It’s a pain.”
“It’s better than getting spotted,” Lieutenant Teison pointed out.
“We’re in the pipe,” Ensign Lassen reported.
“What is this, like the twentieth peek?” Sergeant Nama wondered.
“Twenty-fourth,” Ensign Lassen corrected.
“Time,” the lieutenant said.
“Peek jump in three……two……one……”
“Jumping,” Lieutenant Teison announced as he pressed the jump button on his flight control stick.
“Starting the peek,” Sergeant Nama said as he activated his passive scans, directing her array toward the position he expected the Dusahn battle group to be. “Whoa, wait a minute.”
“What’s wrong?” the lieutenant asked.
“They’re not where they’re supposed to be.”
“They’re gone?”
“No, they’re there… I mean, here, but… They’re slowing down, Jasser,” the sergeant realized.
“Are you sure?” the lieutenant asked.
“Time, Lieutenant,” Ensign Lassen warned.
“I’m sure…” the sergeant confirmed.
“Jumping,” Lieutenant Teison announced as he altered course slightly to starboard and jumped.
“I’ve checked it three times, Lieutenant,” Sergeant Nama said. “The entire group is decelerating, and at a constant rate.”
“Plot us a jump back to the Rogen system,” Lieutenant Teison ordered. “Get us close enough to communicate directly with the Aurora.”
“You got it,” Ensign Lassen acknowledged.
Sergeant Nama looked up from his console. “So, does this mean that peek-a-boo time is over?”
* * *
Loki stepped onto the bridge of the Mystic Empress, pausing to look around. It was quite different from the Aurora’s, and the first thing to hit him was the row of actual windows lining the forward bulkhead.
There were some similarities, of course, most notably a command chair on a raised pedestal at the center of the compartment.
“Mister Sheehan,” Commander Kaplan greeted from his right.
Loki turned to greet the commander. “Good morning, sir.”
“You’re a bit early, aren’t you? Your shift doesn’t start for more than an hour.”
“I thought I would get an early start,” Loki replied. “Familiarize myself with everything before I actually have to fly this thing, myself.”
“You got the procedures manual, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Loki replied. “I’ve studied it from front to back.”
“Then you shouldn’t have a problem,” the commander assured him. “Besides, the Mystic is pretty easy to fly.”
“You have actual windows,” Loki commented, pointing to them.
“My understanding is that the original designers were going for the look of a traditional style, luxury, ocean-going, cruise ship,” the commander explained.
“I guess I’m just used to the Aurora’s view screens,” Loki said. “You were her XO, right?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Every day,” the commander admitted. “Especially the people, but the Mystic has a pretty good crew, as well, and the accommodations are excellent, as is the food.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
“I understand you have a baby girl.”
“Yes, sir,” Loki replied. “Ailsa. She’s about six months old.”
“I was sorry to hear about your wife.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How about I introduce you to your counterpart?”
“That would be great,” Loki agreed.
Loki followed the commander forward to the single-seat helm station, located along the forward bulkhead, tucked in against the row of windows.
“Cain, this is Loki Sheehan, your new relief helmsman,” Commander Kaplan said. “Loki, this is Cain Delgad, the best helmsman on the Mystic.”
“The only helmsman on the Mystic, until now,” Cain said. “Nice to meet you, Loki. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Loki replied, shaking Cain’s hand.
“My condolences on your loss,” Cain said.
“Thanks. Quite a view you have, here,” Loki said, peering out the windows down at the clear dome covering the center promenade on the main passenger deck.
“Yeah,” Cain agreed, quickly glancing over his shoulder to make sure the commander was no longer in earshot. “If you’re ever on duty during one of the dances they hold down there, bring a scope. You can zoom in on a lot of cleavage.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Loki replied uncomfortably.
“How was it flying the Aurora?” Cain asked. “Must have been incredible.”
“It was pretty nice.”
“Is Captain Scott really as amazing as everyone says?”
“He’s a pretty good guy, yes.”
“It must have been difficult to give up that assignment.”
“So, this is the helm?” Loki asked, attempting to change the subject.
“Sure is,” Cain confirmed. “Pretty straight forward, really. After the Aurora, this ship will be a breeze. Just know that she’s pretty slow to maneuver. She’s basically a smooth-cruiser. You spent some time on the sim?”
“A couple of hours, yesterday,” Loki replied.
“Then you shouldn’t have a problem. If you do, the captain and the XO are both pretty easygoing and can help you out, until you get the hang of things. Most of your time will be spent just monitoring systems. Everything is highly automated. Just tell it where you want to go, and it will go there. You don’t even have to worry about station-keeping. It’s all automated. We’re basically just backup for the flight computers.”
“Good to know,” Loki replied.
“Incoming flash traffic from the Aurora, Commander,” the communications officer announced.
“What’s the message?” Commander Kaplan asked.
Loki and Cain both turned to listen.
“We’ve been ordered to prepare to jump to safe rally point Alpha Seven. Jump is in thirty minutes.”
“Did they say why?” the commander wondered.
“The Aurora is leaving,” the communications officer replied.
Commander Kaplan looked at Loki. “You hear anything before you left the Aurora, Loki?”
“No, sir,” Loki replied, also curious.
“There’s been a lot of traffic inbound to the Aurora in the last hour,” the sensor officer reported. “Including about forty or fifty Gunyoki.”
“They’re going into action,” Commander Kaplan realized.
“The Glendanon departed nearly four hours ago,” the communications officer added, “and they’ve been running boxcars out to her at her first recharge layover point.”
“How do you know that?” Commander Kaplan wondered.
“I monitor all frequencies and channels, sir,” the comms officer explained. “It gets pretty boring up here at night.”
Loki felt something come over him. A pull, a sense of responsibility, a sense of duty. His ship was going into harm’s way. His friends…
Josh’s words echoed in Loki’s head. What your life could have been……should have been.
Commander Kaplan glimpsed the look on Loki’s face. “Mister Sheehan? Is something wrong?”
Loki’s eyes moved from the floor to the commander. “I’m not sure, Commander, but I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
Commander Kaplan smiled. “At least twenty of the Aurora’s crew are probably on their way to the shuttle bay, right now. If you hurry, you can join them.”
Loki looked at Cain. “I’m supposed to be your relief.”
“You think I’m giving up this seat just when there’s some actual piloting to do?” Cain replied, also smiling. “Go already!”
Loki turned and headed for the door, pausing just long enough, while passing the commander, to say, “Thank you.”
Commander Kaplan watched Loki exit her bridge, then turned to her comms officer. “Patch me through to Captain Taylor aboard the
Aurora.”
* * *
The Aurora’s main hangar bay was bustling with activity. Reapers were being loaded with precision weapons pods, Nighthawks were preparing to move to the surface, and Gunyoki fighters were being squeezed into anyplace they could fit.
Cameron made her way across the crowded bay toward her Reaper at the far end. “How’s it going?” she asked Abby as she passed by the last four Nighthawks still aboard. “Did you get them all finished?”
“All except these four,” Abby replied. “They still need shielding installed around their reactors, but they’ll finish that on the surface.”
“They?” Cameron asked, stopping in her tracks.
“I’m staying,” Abby explained.
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Not really,” Abby admitted, “but if something goes wrong with the long-range jump system, I’m the best person to troubleshoot the problem.”
“What about your family?” Cameron asked.
“They’re already on board the Mystic, like everyone else’s,” she replied.
“And they’re okay with this?”
“No, but they understand. Besides, it will work,” she insisted, “assuming Vladimir didn’t screw anything up, by taking shortcuts.”
Cameron rolled her eyes. “Good luck,” she said, continuing toward her Reaper.
“You too, Cameron,” Abby replied, turning back to her team preparing the Nighthawks for departure.
“There’s no room in the shuttle for the tools and the shield components,” her assistant said.
“Just put the components in the Nighthawk’s cargo bays and close up their maintenance panels so we can get them out of here,” Abby explained as she noticed a familiar face among the line of Aurora crew members who had just arrived from the Mystic. “Loki?”
“Hi Doctor Sorenson,” Loki replied, stopping.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. After a moment, he cocked his head and looked at Abby. “I feel guilty for being here, but I felt guilty for not being here, as well.”
“You and me, both,” Abby replied, putting her hand on his shoulder, “but you should never feel guilty for doing what you believe is right.”
“But, if something should happen to me…”
“Your daughter would be without both parents, I know. You can’t look at things that way, Loki. It will paralyze you, and you’ll never be the father she needs you to be. Your wife was a victim of a brutal attack. If you should die, you will do so fighting to prevent that very thing from happening to others. Your daughter will know that her father was selfless and fought to defend others. She will be proud of you. She’ll mourn your loss, but she will understand.”