There was a long pause. Her implants recorded a number of probes, ranging from standard ID checks to more careful scans of her authorisation codes and augments. It was a fairly standard procedure - duplicating her marine-specific implants would be tricky - but she couldn't help feeling they were wasting time. What was happening? They had to talk to the Commodore at once!
A hatch opened. A young dark-skinned girl, barely old enough to wear the uniform, stepped into the cell. “I’m sorry for the delay,” she said. “We had to check your identities.”
She motioned for them to follow her. “The commodore will see you shortly,” she added, as they walked out of the cell. “Is there anything I can get for you while you wait?”
“Coffee,” Tyler said. “Please.”
“Of course,” the girl said. “It would be my pleasure.”
***
Captain-Commodore Jenny Longlegs looked up as the two newcomers were escorted into her office, after a series of deep security scans that proved they were human and almost certainly trained in the Solar Union. One of them was a marine, with the heavyset appearance that seemed to be common among marines, male or female; the other was a young man, definitely a civilian from the way he held himself, who looked largely harmless. And they were both from Odyssey.
“All right,” she said, as Sara brought three mugs of coffee. “What the hell is going on?”
“The Harmonies baited a trap,” the marine said. “And we fell for it like idiots.”
Jenny listened, feeling a growing sense of disbelief, as the entire story spilled out, piece by piece. The marine had clearly had plenty of time to compose her report. Odyssey had been attacked and forced to flee Harmony, then attacked again at Kami ... after that, neither of the two travellers knew what had happened to the ship. They hadn't even managed to pick up a rumour that sounded believable. But then, neither had Jenny and her intelligence officers.
“We don’t know where the ship is now,” the marine finished. “But we do know she’s going to be coming here.”
“If she can get through the defences,” Jenny muttered. She had heard that a number of gravity points were being fortified, although they were all at least two transits from Hudson Base. Most of the Galactics who provided security for the neutral world seemed unsure what, if anything, they wanted to do in response to such disregard for galactic norms. “We only have a single battle squadron here.”
“You have to help them,” the marine insisted. “Commodore ...”
“We will,” Jenny said. “But right now we don’t know how to help them.”
She tapped a switch, bringing up the starchart. “You last saw them at Kami,” she said. “And you don’t know where they went from there.”
“No, Commodore,” the marine said.
“Right,” Jenny said. She carefully didn't point out that Odyssey and her entire crew could easily be dead by now. “They have to enter Daladier, unless they want to come home the long way. But we don’t know which gravity point they’ll try to force.”
She contemplated a dozen possible routes for Odyssey to take, but she knew there was no way to be sure. Captain Yasser was known to be careful ... perhaps he’d chosen to take the long road home. But that would take months, if not years ... of course, he had managed to get a warning to Hudson Base.
“They might come after Hudson itself too,” she mused, slowly. “There aren't many humans here, but we do have a base. They’ll want the base intact, if possible.”
“Or one of your ships,” the marine said. “If the overall idea was to capture a human ship ...”
“Not going to happen,” Jenny said. “All right ...”
She adjusted the starchart. “We’ll inform the remaining races of just what happened to Odyssey, she said. “I dare say it won’t be enough to convince them all to take a stand, let alone declare war, but it should galvanise them to live up to their treaties and defend Hudson Base. Just in case it won't, I’ll order all non-essential personnel to evacuate Hudson Base and transfer to a freighter. If all hell breaks loose they can head straight back to Earth.”
“Ouch,” the marine said. “They’ll be in cramped quarters for months.”
“Better that than death,” Jenny said. “In the meantime, we’ll move the squadron to the gravity point and make transit into Daladier. Ideally, we’ll remain near the gravity point and provide cover when Odyssey arrives.”
The marine frowned. “Commodore ... won’t the Harmonies on station know you’ve moved to Daladier?”
“Probably,” Jenny said. She lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you studied tactics.”
“I’ve had several weeks to consider all the options,” the marine said. She sounded more amused than embarrassed. It wasn't unknown for marines to move to the fleet and vice versa, but it was unusual. “Shouldn’t we engage the Harmonies first?”
“I’d prefer not to make any overtly hostile moves,” Jenny said. “Technically, any warring parties are supposed to remove themselves from Hudson. We’re not that well liked in this sector. I don’t want to give the Galactics any excuse to order us out. Things will be different, I assure you, if the Harmonies start the engagement.”
She shook her head. “There are really too many unknowns,” she admitted. “If we knew which gravity point they’d use, we’d be able to cover it directly. But we don’t, so ...”
“I understand,” the marine said. “What now?”
“I’m going to dispatch a trio of courier boats back to Earth,” Jenny said. “Your records will accompany them. Whatever happens next, Earth will know that Odyssey was treacherously attacked. As for you two ... what do you want to do?”
“Stay with the squadron,” the marine said, automatically. “I have to report back to Odyssey.”
“As you wish,” Jenny said. She hoped, for their sake as well as the Solar Union’s, that Odyssey had survived. “And you?”
“I’d prefer to stay,” the young man said.
Jenny frowned as she accessed her implants, scanning his file with a practiced eye. A young diplomat ... not even a credentialed diplomat ... but someone born and raised on an alien world. He might be useful, if he wanted to stay. And even if he wasn't, he’d earned the right to see the matter through. He wouldn’t cause trouble.
And if he does, Jenny thought, there’s always the brig.
“Very well,” she said, briskly. She finished her coffee, then called for Sara. “I’ll have you both teleported to Schlieffen and assigned quarters. My crew have already started preparations, so hopefully we’ll be underway in less than an hour. It’ll take longer to convince the other Galactics of just what happened at Harmony.”
“We do have recordings,” the marine said. “Can't those be used as proof?”
Jenny’s lips thinned. “It depends on just what they show,” she said. “We don’t want to showcase our technology to potential enemies.”
“Understood,” the marine said.
Sara entered. “Yes, Commodore?”
“Take these two to Schlieffen and ask the XO to assign them quarters,” Jenny ordered. “And then report back to me.”
“Aye, Commodore.”
Jenny watched them go, then looked up at the starchart. She’d known that something was wrong, but she hadn't had the slightest idea of what. The Harmonies had always been an unknown factor - it wasn't as if they deigned to talk to her - yet she’d had the impression they were sticklers for the rules. Why not? The rules were designed to keep the major powers on top. But now, the Harmonies had started a war ... perhaps several wars. How many other major powers did they think they could fight at once?
They’re well ahead of everyone else when it comes to fortifying their gravity points, she thought, numbly. That frees up entire fleets to go on the offensive.
She closed her eyes as she tried to think. The Harmonies had tried to capture Odyssey, first for dissection and then to cover up their crimes. But now the secret was out ... how would they react? Abandon the chase, p
ay compensation and plot their next move ... or go on the offensive? And who - or what - would be the target? If the Harmonies wanted human technology ... well, she was sitting right on top of the largest collection of advanced technology in the sector.
The hatch opened. Sara returned, looking amused. “Commodore,” she said. “They have been transported to Schlieffen.”
“Good,” Jenny said, shortly. “Do we have anything on the manifests that cannot be spared?”
Sara took a moment to think. “No, Commodore,” she said. “Why?”
Jenny rose. “We’re abandoning the station,” she said. “Order the crew to prepare for transport to Schlieffen or one of the other cruisers. We’ll rig the self-destruct to blow the station if she’s boarded without the right command codes. Make sure the beacon warns anyone who tries to land.”
“Aye, Commodore,” Sara said. She frowned, suddenly. “There will be demands for compensation. We’re providing long-term storage for several crates of goods.”
“We’ll pay, if necessary,” Jenny said. She paced around the desk, thinking hard. “Right now, Sara, we’re at war. And the first major battle may be fought here.”
Sara nodded. “All of a sudden, the crates don’t seem so important,” she said. “I’ll make it clear to the merchants, if they come back.”
Jenny smiled. The merchants would probably take the losses in stride, if compensation was paid. If they didn't ... well, they were at war. The freighters might well wind up being requisitioned for the fleet train. Hell, the merchant crews would probably volunteer for the Solar Navy. They had been working to produce a pool of talented spacers.
“See that you do,” she said.
***
“We’ve assigned you two cabins,” a harried-looking ensign said, pointing to a pair of hatches. “The captain will summon you when she needs you.”
“Thank you,” Levi said. She watched the ensign hurry off, then looked at Tyler. “Which one do you want?”
“The one with the shower and the human-sized bed,” Tyler said. He opened the first hatch and smiled. “Paradise!”
Levi didn't bother to conceal her amusement. “It's smaller than your cabin on Odyssey.”
“It’s designed for humans,” Tyler said. He waved a hand inside the hatch. “The shower is warm, the bed is cosy, the food is tasty, the terminal doesn't have to be reformatted to be usable ...”
“You do gain more from the simple pleasures after you’re without them for a few weeks,” Levi agreed, dryly. She’d had the same experience at Boot Camp. “You’d be bitching and moaning about this cabin without the experience of sharing a cramped module ...”
“Don’t remind me,” Tyler urged. He looked at her for a long moment. “Now what?”
Levi sighed, inwardly. She knew what he was thinking. “Now what, what?”
“About us,” Tyler said. “Are we ... are we together still?”
He looked awkward, torn between a desire to invite her into his cabin and an equally strong desire to keep it all for himself. And a little more, perhaps. Levi understood, better than she cared to admit. They’d been thrust together by circumstances and now ... now they were no longer the only humans on the ship. Their relationship wasn't real ... realistically, it had been nothing more than an extended one-night stand.
She sighed, again. “We were flung together,” she said. “We started fucking” - she threw the crudity into the conversation to make him sit up and pay attention - “because we had very little else to do. And yes, I enjoyed it as much as you did. But now ... now, we are no longer alone.”
“I know,” Tyler said.
Men, Levi thought. She’d been careful not to get emotionally involved when they’d been having sex. No matter how much she’d enjoyed it, she'd known it wouldn't last. Tyler had probably had the same thought, in the beginning. But he’d become involved with her despite himself. He’s still too young to understand.
“If you want to ask me out, properly, when we return home,” she said, “you may do so. And I will say yes or no, depending. But, for the moment, we both have other duties.”
“We finished the mission,” Tyler protested.
“That doesn't put an end to our work,” Levi said. “And you and I both have to go back to the war.”
She allowed her voice to soften. “If you want to leave this ship, there’s still time,” she added, quietly. “I’m sure you could get a seat on one of the courier boats.”
“No, thank you,” Tyler said. “I’ll see it through.”
“Very good,” Levi said. She pointed at the hatch. “Get a shower, then some rest. You’ll be needed soon enough.”
Tyler nodded. “Yes, LT.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Most of the problems we had when fighting on Earth did not come from the troops on the front line, many of whom later moved to the Solar Union, but from the politicians who did not take the engagements seriously. They cared little for the war on terror because they were not directly threatened by the terrorists.
This is obviously not true of the Grand Alliance. The Tokomak will not spare anyone who refuses to submit. The prospect of death, as the saying goes, concentrates the mind wonderfully.
-Solar Datanet, Political Forum (Grand Alliance Thoughts).
“I feel like a ninny,” Biscoe said.
Elton looked up at him. Sitting on the alien throne, Biscoe looked like a child perched on his father’s chair. The alien aesthetics honestly didn't make any sense to him. It wasn't as though the Harmonies were giants. The largest alien he’d seen had barely been a head taller than Elton himself. Their former commander had actually been smaller than him.
“I think you’re meant to be keeping an eye on your subordinates,” he said. He couldn't resist a smile. “Can you read the tactical console from up there?”
“Yes, but not too clearly,” Biscoe said. He hopped off the throne and jumped down to the deck. “Their eyesight must be different from ours, sir.”
“Or maybe they just want their subordinates to know they’re being watched at all times,” Elton said. He looked around the bridge. Being on a pedestal would have been good for a human commander’s ego, he was sure, but bad for tactical awareness. “Is your first command ready to depart?”
“Yes, sir,” Biscoe said. He waved a hand towards the helm. A pair of engineers had dismantled the original interface and replaced it with a spare console drawn from Odyssey’s stocks. Thankfully, the Harmonies hadn't changed the underlying command and control systems they’d copied from the Tokomak. “We have drives, weapons and ECM.”
“And no cloaking device,” Elton said. He’d actually considered sending King Whatever - King Hakim XIII had been renamed - to Hudson Base alone, while Odyssey lurked in interstellar space, but he rather suspected they were running out of time. “Are your weapons at full readiness?”
“As best as we can,” Biscoe said. “She did take a pounding, sir. We fixed the missile tubes and hung a few extra phaser arrays on the hull, but she’s in no state for a real battle. The ECM won’t protect us indefinitely.”
“Probably not,” Elton said. The Galactics had no reason, logically, to pay close attention to a starship that was too small to carry Odyssey, particularly one broadcasting the correct IFF codes. King Whatever’s former commander had been ordered to link up with the rest of the fleet, after all. But he knew, all too well, that too much could go wrong. “Are you ready for an emergency evacuation?”
“We’re all carrying teleporter transponders,” Biscoe confirmed. “If Odyssey can’t yank us up, we can beam to the shuttles and abandon ship.”
Elton nodded, reluctantly. A shuttle in the midst of a battle would have the life expectancy of a snowflake in hell. Technically, shooting at unarmed shuttles and lifepods was illegal, but he doubted that would provide any protection. Biscoe and his crew would have a very slight chance of escape, nothing more. And yet, it was better than nothing. The Harmonies would do everything in their power to punish the h
umans for daring to capture their ship.
He looked around the bridge, trying to conceal his dismay. The Harmonies hadn't used anything like as much automation as Odyssey, let alone a human warship. Their AI technology was nowhere near as advanced as the Solar Union’s - the Tokomak had flatly banned AI - yet their tech base should have allowed them to build more automation into their ships than they had. He had no idea if it was an alien jobs creation program or a tradition that had long since passed the point when it could be questioned, but it was a nuisance. He’d had to put over a hundred of his crewmen on King Whatever just to fly her. Getting them all off the captured ship, if the shit hit the fan, would be damn near impossible.
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