by Ryk Brown
“It definitely has its risks; I’m not going to lie to you.”
A look of concern came over Yanni’s face. “What does this all have to do with me?”
“I’m told the data cores are very sensitive.”
“Of course they are,” Yanni said. “They’re over a thousand years old.”
“Is that why your supervisor instructed you to stay with them?”
“He wanted me to be sure that they were handled correctly and that no damage would come to them.”
“Your supervisor was a wise man. Unfortunately, I plan on sending the data cores back to the Pentaurus cluster for safe keeping… and I was hoping you would agree to go with them.”
Yanni stared at Nathan, his mouth agape.
“Mister Hiller?”
“You want me to travel across a thousand light years of space?”
Nathan noticed that Yanni looked a little pale. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve never even been out of Switzerland… I mean, up until a couple months ago, that is.”
“The Takarans will keep the cores safe,” Nathan explained. “The Jung don’t even know they exist, let alone where they are. I need you to go with those cores, to continue to ensure their proper handling. I also need you to help them access the data on those cores, as there may be technologies that we have not yet developed that might aid us in our fight to save Earth from the Jung.”
“Captain, the Earth is already lost.”
“I intend to take her back, Mister Hiller… and to hold her. To do so, I need your help and the help of our allies in the Pentaurus cluster. I need to send them a message, and I need to deliver those cores safely into their hands.”
Yanni was silent for several seconds, overwhelmed by what was being asked of him. “Captain,” he pleaded, “I am only a data systems technician.”
“Right now, that’s exactly what we need,” Nathan assured him.
Yanni looked around the room, unsure of what to say. He took a big breath and sighed. Finally, he spoke. “Are these Takarans nice people?”
* * *
Enjoying his lunch at the small dining table, Eli looked out the massive window at the city of Geneva stretched out before him. Nearly all signs of the invasion months earlier had been removed, and the city shone as it always had, with the tip of its massive lake glistening in the midday sun.
His duties as the Jung-appointed governor of Earth kept him busy in his office from dawn to dusk and then some. There was still so much to do, so much to repair, and so much to change on his homeworld. He was determined to reshape the Earth into an efficient and prosperous world, one that operated without all the petty political subterfuge that he had grown so weary of during his service as his father’s assistant. It was unfortunate that his new responsibilities left him little time to spend with his wife and children. However, his wife had yet to accept that his duplicity had been necessary for the greater good of their world. He had exhausted all efforts toward making her understand his master plan and had finally resigned himself to the fact that she never would. She would never know the true story behind his ascension to global power.
The massive door to his office opened to reveal General Bacca, his Jung military commander on Earth. The man was much his elder, and Eli was well aware of the general’s disdain for him. Eli continued eating, determined not to allow the general to interrupt his meal.
General Bacca’s boots clicked across the wooden floors of the governor’s office, coming to a stop a few meters from Eli’s table.
Eli looked up at the general with one eye as he dined. “Pressing news, I suppose.”
“My apologies, Governor,” the general offered out of decorum. “It seems that your father has revealed the location of the Celestia.”
“Really?” Eli said as he took his last bite. He chewed quickly, dabbing at his lips with his linen napkin as he swallowed. “I suppose that is pressing.” Eli gestured for the general to sit in the chair opposite him at the small dining table. “Care to join me, General? The squab is quite good.”
“No, thank you, sir.”
“Ah, yes,” Eli said, pretending to remember. “You don’t care much for the local cuisine, do you?” Eli placed his napkin on the table and rose. “So, where does she hide, General?”
“On Metis.”
“Never heard of it,” Eli said as he circled around behind his desk.
“It is one of Jupiter’s smallest moons, orbiting a mere one hundred twenty-eight thousand kilometers from its surface.”
Eli appeared somewhat stunned by the news. “They put the Celestia on the surface of this moon? Is that even possible?”
“As I said, the moon is quite small. Its gravity would be negligible. It would be relatively easy to set a ship down on its surface, provided a suitable landing site was available.”
“Why would they choose to hide her there, I wonder?”
“The moon is tidally locked with Jupiter, causing the same side to always face its parent,” the general explained. “With its short orbital period and its close proximity to the gas giant, the window of visibility per orbit is quite limited. It is a clever location to hide an asset: difficult to discover, yet close enough to easily retrieve when the opportunity presents itself.”
“I told you Galiardi was clever,” Eli said as he took his seat.
“Yes. We have also learned that the small ship that appeared outside Winnipeg was from the Aurora, and it retrieved one of her operatives that had been sent to make contact with the resistance.”
“Interesting.”
“It would be logical to assume that the Aurora is now aware of the Celestia’s location as well.”
“And you got all of this information from my father?” Eli wondered, a hint of concern on his face.
“That and more. He does not have the resolve that Galiardi demonstrated.”
“I would expect not,” Eli said. “I assume you are sending forces to investigate.”
“We have dispatched two gunships. They should arrive within a few hours.”
“Two gunships,” Eli said with surprise. “Do you honestly believe that to be sufficient?”
“Considering the deceptions the resistance has already resorted to, I believe caution is in order.”
“Perhaps,” Eli agreed, “but if you go in with anything less than full forces and the Aurora is there as well, you will have lost the element of surprise.”
“There is still the possibility that President Scott is also employing a deception. It would be in line with the methodologies used by the resistance.”
“My father does not have that kind of willpower,” Eli insisted, “or training, for that matter. I expect the information you obtained from him is genuine.”
“You might be surprised by his resolve, Governor. Nevertheless, I prefer to proceed with caution. Best to overestimate an adversary than to underestimate him.”
“If the Aurora is there, she will undoubtedly destroy your gunships, and they will know that we are aware of the Celestia’s location. She will scuttle the Celestia and depart, and you will have missed your opportunity to ambush the Aurora. After all, the capture of the Aurora, or at the very least the destruction of her, should be of paramount importance to the Jung.”
“The Aurora is but one ship,” the general stated confidently. “A formidable one, to be sure, but still only one. The Jung have hundreds of warships and dozens of battle platforms. The Aurora is a nuisance, nothing more.”
“General, I think you may be underestimating the Aurora’s capabilities.”
“My orders are to hold Earth until reinforcements arrive to properly secure the system once and for all. I intend to follow those orders.”
“But that ship…”
“Might I remin
d you, Governor, that the decision to invade the Sol system ahead of schedule was based on your recommendation. It is because of that action that we find ourselves with such limited resources. Should we prove unable to hold the system until relieved, it will reflect poorly on both our parts. I will not risk the remainder of our forces until such time as I am convinced that your father is not attempting the same deception as Admiral Galiardi. I currently have two ways to determine this. I can send in those gunships, risking only what I can afford to lose, or I can resort to even stronger interrogation methods. The choice is yours.”
Eli stared at the general for several moments. “You’re talking about level three, aren’t you? Reprogramming.”
“Would it bother you if I were, Governor?” the general asked.
Eli recognized the general’s tone. The old man took every opportunity to challenge Eli without actually stepping over the line. Eli, however, had spent decades with his father in the political arena and knew better than to blindly take such bait.
Eli chose his words carefully, delivering them in as calm a fashion as possible. “I may not agree with his politics, but he was a popular public figure, and he could yet prove beneficial in our attempts to win over the hearts and minds of my people, so turning him into a mindless servant of the empire may prove counterproductive.” Eli began rifling through papers on his desk as if he had become disinterested in the conversation. “Besides, he is my father, and I do not wish to see him suffer unduly. I suspect that you would feel the same if he were your father.”
“My father was assassinated by one of his subordinates for allegedly failing to follow Jung directives. The assassin assumed his position and carried out those directives.”
“That’s got to be a hard pill to swallow,” Eli stated as he continued his feigned indifference.
“It is a common method of advancement.”
“Seems a bit brutal.”
“On the contrary, it tends to ensure that one adheres to Jung directives, lest they too be assassinated.”
“I see.”
“In fact, if one fails to take such action when warranted, it tends to reflect poorly.”
Eli looked at the general, wondering if the old man was issuing a cleverly veiled threat. “Is this method of advancement utilized often?”
“That is hard to say,” the general admitted. “The empire is vast, and communication over light years is painfully slow, even with our FTL communication drones.”
“Have you ever advanced in such fashion?”
“Once.” General Bacca smiled. “I was doubly fortunate.”
“How so?”
“My superior failed to perform his duties as outlined. I did my duty and took his life.”
“How is that doubly fortunate?”
“My superior at the time was the same man who had taken my father’s life many years earlier,” the general said as the smallest hint of a smile formed at the corner of his mouth. “Sometimes, fate smiles upon us.”
* * *
“Sergeant?” Yanni asked as Sergeant Weatherly led him down the main corridor toward the forward entrance to the main hangar deck. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Not at all,” the sergeant responded.
“What do you think of Captain Scott?”
“The captain is a good man.”
“Do you have faith in him?”
“Of course.” The sergeant looked at Yanni. “Captain Scott has done amazing things with this ship. Why do you ask?”
“I’m not sure, actually. Maybe it’s because he seems too young to be a captain, or maybe it’s because I’m being sent a thousand light years away.” Yanni sighed. “More likely it is because this is all happening so fast.”
“Weren’t you on the Celestia for over two months?”
“Yes, and I had gotten accustomed to that. I had a settled routine, such as it was: I woke, I checked the cores, I exercised with the shuttle crew, I read… It was not very exciting.” He looked at the sergeant as they walked. “I’m not very good at excitement.”
“My father used to say, ‘You can’t be good at everything, so you’re better off trying to be the best at what you are good at.’ He wasn’t very big on excitement, either. Never traveled out of the city he was born in.”
“Neither have I,” Yanni admitted, “until now anyway.” Yanni followed the sergeant through the wide hatch into the forward end of the main hangar bay.
“Well, you’re about to join an elite club,” the sergeant said as they turned left and headed toward the port side of the hangar deck.
Yanni looked suspicious. “What club is that?”
“Only about a hundred Terrans have traveled a thousand light years from Earth, and only thirty of them are still alive to talk about it. Soon, you’ll become the thirty-first.”
Yanni swallowed hard. “Assuming I live to tell about it, that is.”
Sergeant Weatherly let go an uncharacteristic chuckle. The stoic marine smiled at the young Swiss. “You’ll be fine. The Takarans turned out to be pretty nice folk.”
“What do you mean, ‘turned out to be’?”
“Long story. I’m sure the flight crew will tell you all about it during your journey back to the PC.”
“PC?”
“Pentaurus cluster.”
“Oh, right.” Yanni looked out across the massive hangar bay as they approached the super-jump shuttle sitting on the forward elevator pad. “Have you been there?”
“Takara?” The sergeant laughed again. “Yup. It’s a lot like Earth, except more rain.”
“And they’re nice, you say?”
“Mister Hiller,” the sergeant said as he came to a stop, “you’re bringing them the entire history and knowledge of the birthplace of humanity… of their long passed ancestors. I suspect you’ll be welcomed with open arms. Besides, Prince Casimir and the captain are very good friends. The prince will take good care of you.”
“Really?”
“You’ll probably have beautiful, young women tending to your every need.”
Yanni’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Well, maybe not your every need,” the sergeant warned. He turned toward the group of men at the back of the super-jump shuttle. “Lieutenant!” he called out.
Lieutenant Montgomery came over to them, appearing to be his usual polite and not overly friendly self. “How may I help you, Sergeant?” he said, returning the sergeant’s salute.
“Lieutenant Montgomery, this is Mister Hiller. He is the technician from Earth who is responsible for the safety of the data cores.”
“An honor to meet you, Mister Hiller,” the lieutenant said with a nod. “Your arrival is well timed. We were just trying to decide how best to shield your data cores from the effects of the zero-point energy device.”
“The what?” Yanni asked, a curious look on his face.
“Sir,” the sergeant said, stepping back to depart. He winked at Yanni. “Good luck, Mister Hiller.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Yanni turned back to the lieutenant, his curiosity still piqued. “What were you saying? A zero-point something?”
* * *
Nathan watched from the command chair on the Aurora’s bridge as his helmsman, Mister Chiles, manipulated the ship’s docking thrusters. The view screen before them was filled with the image of the Celestia sitting on the surface of Metis, which loomed above them. “This just doesn’t feel right,” he mumbled to his XO who stood next to him.
“Up, down… it’s all relative in space,” Cameron reminded him.
“At least this big view screen is finally good for something,” he said as he leaned his head back to look straight up at the top edge of the screen as the Celestia grew larger in the screen and slid slowly aft.
“One hundred meters,” Mister Riley announced. “Speed: one meter per second. Range to Celestia: two hundred meters. Closure of two and a half meters per second.”
“At what distance are we going to stand off?” Nathan asked his XO.
“Fifty meters at our closest points,” Cameron answered. “Any closer and we’d be constantly adjusting our position to avoid being pulled down on top of the Celestia.”
“Is fifty meters far enough?” Nathan wondered.
“It will have to be. The rescue tunnel is only sixty meters long, so even if we stand off at fifty, we’ll only have ten meters of slack available. We’ll have to counter with station-keeping every twenty minutes or so to avoid ripping the tunnel. However, Mister Chiles has programmed the auto-flight system to maintain our position in precise fashion.”
“A pilot after your own heart, eh?”
“If you mean a good pilot, then yes,” she quipped.
“Firing thrusters,” Mister Chiles reported from the helm.
“Forward speed at zero,” Mister Riley reported. “Still descending. Closure at one meter per second. Range to stand off distance is fifty meters. Drifting slightly to port.”
“Correcting,” the helmsman answered as he quickly calculated the amount of thrust necessary to stop the drift. A moment later, he entered a command and the port thrusters answered.
“We’re directly over our targeting point,” Mister Riley reported from the navigator’s station. “Zero drift. Still descending. Point five closure. Thirty meters.”
“Tell the attachment team to stand by,” Nathan ordered.
“Attachment team is already in position and standing by,” Naralena reported from the comm station.
“Twenty meters.”
“Queuing up final parking thrust cycle,” Mister Riley reported calmly.
Four technicians in Corinairan EVA suits stood in a circle on the Aurora’s flight apron and faced aft. Below them, four long rows of heat exchangers stretched out from under the aft edge of the flight apron to the forward edge of the drive of the ship’s massive main propulsion section. In between them was the specialized deployment cart that carried the Emergency Rescue Tunnel.