by S. H. Jucha
Darius replied,
Ellie sent and cut the comm.
* * *
Aboard the Rêveur, Alex watched the three enemy fighters and one of his travelers wink off the holo-vid and heard Sean’s last thought. His fists clenched in rage. Renée laid one hand on his shoulder and stroked his arm with the other.
“Mr. President, Admiral Tachenko, we have movement. The Hand of Justice has just launched twenty-four fighters. They’re headed for us,” Julien said.
“The Reunion is coming out from behind Delacroix, Ser President,” Z added. “Flight time to our present position is approximately 7.3 hours.”
Alex was debating which way to run, knowing there were only moments to decide. If he ran, his two pilots would succumb to the UE fighters as they sought to guard his fleeing ship. Equally frustrating was the thought that the Last Stand’s following wave of travelers would arrive too late to help. It was obvious the Earthers were better practiced in the art of subterfuge. Alex looked over at Tatia, expecting to see anger and frustration carved into her face, but she wore a cruel grin. “Would you like to share, Admiral?” Alex asked.
Tatia’s grin never faded as she replied, “Sub-wing Commander Deirdre Canaan disobeyed orders.”
* * *
Deirdre Canaan was severely disappointed that she hadn’t been picked by Ellie to fly as her wing. “I’m the second-best pilot on this carrier after you, Commander,” Deirdre complained to Ellie in the privacy of the commander’s office. “You know I should be out there beside you.”
“You are the next-best pilot, after me, of course,” Ellie replied, her cheeky smile taking the sting out of her remark. “And that’s why I need you as sub-wing commander, backing us up. We expect these Earthers not to play by their own rules, but we haven’t a clue as to what they will do. I need you leading the sub-wing to make sure that whatever trick they pull, you make it blow up in their face. That’s your job … win and protect our leaders.”
Deirdre decided to dedicate time to her task, reviewing the vids of Earther contact, the Shadow’s vids, and Étienne’s combat training with the master sergeant. She took special notice of Major Barbas’s reaction to Z’s announcement that he was Miranda Leyton in another avatar. You like to apply force, blunt force, to dissuade your enemy from even thinking of attacking you, Deirdre thought.
Ellie’s flight had pulled ahead of Deirdre’s sub-wing as they rounded Bevroren, and the ordered distance lag soon reached the midpoint, but Deirdre was nagged by her thoughts about the Earthers. We are amateurs at war, and you are professionals, Deirdre thought and made up her mind.
Deirdre’s sub-wing had already left Bevroren’s orbit and was hurtling toward the Hand of Justice when they received an update of the contest and heard Sean’s last thought. Despite her anger, Deirdre still expected to make for the Rêveur and protect her leaders, until her controller registered the launch of the twenty-four fighters from the battleship.
The number of enemy fighters the UE pilots suddenly faced frightened them, knowing that in the contest, the Méridiens lost only one fighter to their three — three of their best. It caused many of the UE pilots to panic and launch their first salvo of missiles prematurely, giving the travelers plenty of time to evade. Even then, the Méridien fighters appeared to form an impenetrable wall as the UE pilots found themselves facing two or more enemy fighters.
In the end, Deirdre’s sub-wing of sixty-one travelers made short work of the UE fighters. She lost three pilots in the engagement.
Not done executing her plan, Deirdre lost no time ordering her sub-wing toward Delacroix and the emerging Reunion. Moments later, Deirdre received her admiral’s order to return and guard the Rêveur, but she kept her sub-wing on its heading until she saw the Earther explorer ship change course and head out of system.
Deirdre knew that later she would stand a disciplinary hearing from the commodore and a personal dressing-down from the admiral, but at the moment, watching the explorer ship run for the deep dark, she wore a satisfied smile. We can learn to play this dangerous game of yours as well as you do, Deirdre thought.
* * *
“Speaker García and Major Barbas assured us these vessels were shuttles — exclusively,” Theostin raged, not caring one whit who heard her loss of decorum. She and Bunaldi decided to witness their triumph in full view of the battleship’s bridge officers. Instead they witnessed the loss of their three pilots and the contest, followed by the loss of twenty-four more of their fighters to the Méridiens’ loss of only four fighters.
“Well, President Racine did warn us,” Bunaldi said thoughtfully.
If Bunaldi was an underling, Theostin would have struck him repeatedly about the face. She was livid, and he was saying they were warned about this outcome. Theostin saw her precious dreams of promotion slipping away.
“What I would like to know is this: Where did those Méridien fighters come from?” Bunaldi said quietly. “It doesn’t seem possible they’re FTL capable, which means there’s a large Méridien warship nearby. And here’s my second question: Are all these shuttles that we see flying around armed ships?”
Bunaldi’s calm reasoning soothed Theostin’s temper as she supposed he intended. “I would like to know what they are using for armament,” Theostin finally said. “The guide identified no launch of any sort — no rail slugs, missiles, or explosive rounds … nothing. There was just an energy spike right before our fighters were destroyed, except for that one Méridien fighter in the contest.”
“Yes, that one,” Bunaldi mused. “It appears the Méridiens are prepared to sacrifice themselves to achieve their goals once they are in the heat of battle. I wouldn’t have thought that possible. It’s a point to note very carefully.”
“Judge Bunaldi, your pardon for the interruption,” Captain Dimitri Chofsky said, “the Reunion has come out of hiding as planned and the Méridien fighters are making for it.”
“Wave him off, Captain,” Bunaldi ordered. “Have him make for deep space in our quadrant. Notify him that we suspect that a Méridien ship, a battleship or a carrier, might be waiting beyond Bevroren, and to give it a wide berth.”
Bunaldi watched the comms officer take a call and urgently signal Captain Chofsky. “I was waiting for this,” Bunaldi whispered to Theostin.
“Judge Bunaldi, a comm from President Racine. It’s relayed through the Reunion,” Captain Chofsky said.
Bunaldi gestured to the comms officer to put the call on the monitor. He watched the stern face of the president appear. So youthful in appearance and yet already so talented at the tactics of war, Bunaldi thought.
“President Racine, it appears you have won the contest.” Bunaldi thought to play off his loss with nonchalance, but he found himself rather lamely waiting for a response when none was forthcoming. The young president’s eyes continued to bore down on him from the monitor. “Come, now, we both appear to be practiced hands at war, and in war, people must be sacrificed to achieve the greater
goals.”
“Bunaldi,” Alex said in a voice that sounded like stones grinding together, “we’ve played your little contest, and you have amply demonstrated that you’re not a man of your word. Therefore, all communications with you are hereby terminated. You have one day to clear this system and enter FTL to return to Earth. And I have a message for your leader, Bunaldi. Come here again in anything less intimidating than a passenger liner, and we will destroy your ships on sight. One day, Bunaldi! Exit this system in one day or both your ships will end up as space debris, just like those pilots and fighters you sacrificed.”
Before Bunaldi could answer, the comm was terminated.
“Captain Chofsky, tell Captain Lumley to expedite our exit from the system. Set an appropriate rendezvous point for our ships far outside this system and send the coordinates to him,” Bunaldi ordered.
“We’re running, Judge?” Theostin said, shocked at Bunaldi’s order.
“We are employing a strategic retreat, my dear Admiral, until such time as I can contemplate our next move. We have a unique situation here, and I don’t intend to mishandle it. That would be bad for both our careers and possibly our lives.”
-24-
Mahima paced her bedroom floor. Her House SADE, Hector, had informed her that the Earthers lost the contest and were fleeing the system. “Fools! All of them,” she hissed under her breath. “They should have listened to me, and none of this would ever have happened. It’s that Racine’s fault. Fortune deserted us the day he found the Rêveur.”
An idea began to take shape in Mahima’s mind, and she stopped her pacing. “They want action from their Council Leader, do they? I will give them action.” The thought didn’t cross Mahima’s mind that she was no longer Council Leader.
Hector sent.
Speaker García hesitated before he nodded to the Reunion comms officer, who relayed the call to Bunaldi.
The moment that contact with the Hand of Justice was established, Hector routed the comm through the FTL station near the battleship to eliminate the delay in the high judge’s response.
Bunaldi sat behind his salon’s desk to take the call. “Good evening, Council Leader Ganesh. This is a surprise.” Bunaldi hoped for a vid call, but even an audio-only call might be instructive, especially after President Racine indicated that all contact with their ships was to be terminated. “How may I be of service?”
Mahima sent, her self-control reasserting itself.
“Yet he speaks for you, Council Leader, does he not?” Bunaldi asked. He moved aside some articles on the desk to make room for Theostin, who perched on the desk to listen to the exchange.
Bunaldi looked down at the sheet of flex that Theostin scribbled on with her finger. “If President Racine isn’t Méridien, where’s he from?” Bunaldi asked, reading Theostin’s note.
“So what is Méridien’s relationship with these two worlds or are they composed of multiple worlds?” Bunaldi asked.
Theostin flexed the sheet, erasing her note, and scribbled another question for Bunaldi, sliding the sheet back to him.
“I take it you have no sympathies for this man’s actions, Council Leader. Perhaps it would be to your advantage if President Racine was no longer around to bother you or Méridien, for that matter?” Bunaldi said, rephrasing Theostin’s question.
Mahima could not believe her good fortune. With one stroke she could rid Méridien of these interlopers and the sources of the bane of her existence — New Terra and Haraken.
Theostin curled her legs together on the desktop. The conversation’s direction was exciting, and she fought to gain control and refrain from joining in. She felt Bunaldi’s hand gently squeeze her bare foot, and she took a slow breath to calm herself.
“As you can see, Council Leader Ganesh, we are leaving Méridien as President Racine has ordered us,” Bunaldi replied. He saw Theostin shake her head, warning him off from proceeding in that direction, but Bunaldi held a finger to his lips to silence her.
Mahima hesitated. If the Earthers were already leaving, then the prime goal was accomplished, but she couldn’t let go of the thought that Alex Racine would still be haunting her life.
“Perhaps, we can help each other, Council Leader Ganesh. We might make a stop at Haraken or New Terra on the way home and return the favor he bestowed on us today,” Bunaldi offered.
The temptation was too much for Mahima.
Hector paled at the thought of his demise at the hands of his House Leader. He possessed no records of a Méridien threatening the life of a SADE, and he was suddenly frighteningly aware of how far Mahima’s mental state was drifting.
The vehemence of Mahima’s thoughts frightened Hector into obliging his mistress, but immediately afterward he contacted Winston.
Bunaldi was hoping for the opportunity to ask a few more questions when the call suddenly ended. He sat back in his desk chair, a broad, satisfied smile on his face.
“Can we believe her?” Theostin asked, turning around to face Bunaldi and dropping her legs over the back of the desk.
“Can we believe that President Racine would have driven others, besides us, into states of emotional distress? Yes, that’s quite believable,” Bunaldi replied, rubbing his chin, and considered the information that had fallen into his lap. In the meantime, he ordered the information copied to the Reunion.
Bunaldi punched the comm on his desk. “Comms, connect me to Speaker García.” When he was connected, Bunaldi said, “Speaker García, we have received information with the locations of Haraken and New Terra, worlds not formally associated with Méridien, and apparently where the people aboard the Rêveur abide. Haraken is a new colony. It should be easily subdued. That will be your destination. N
ew Terra is a single world. That will be my destination.”
“Captain Lumley has confirmed our guide’s receipt of the star information, Judge Bunaldi. We will leave as soon as the guide has calculated the jump,” García replied.
“Méridien might be out of our reach for now, Speaker García, but we will gain a great deal of prestige when we bring these two worlds to their knees. I will see that you are given fair credit for your efforts.”
When High Judge Bunaldi signed off, García’s thought was to define “fair credit” as equivalent to a footnote in the high judge’s report to the Supreme Tribunal.
“So what’s next?” Theostin asked after Bunaldi cut the comm.
“What’s next, my dear? I think we should celebrate this little bit of windfall,” Bunaldi replied with a grin.
Theostin responded with a mischievous grin of her own, and while Bunaldi reached for a bottle of aged cognac and two glasses, she returned to the couch to retrieve her favorite massage oil.
* * *
The Last Stand’s second sub-wing was never launched. After receiving Julien’s message that the Earthers were retreating from the system, Commodore Reynard and Captain Manet decided to wait near a Bevroren moon and monitor the two UE ships after they cleared the system. The enemy ships were seen to rendezvous and within a relatively short time, the two ships separated, accelerated, and entered FTL on two different tangents.
“What in black space just happened?” Sheila asked, staring at the divergent trajectories of the UE ships.
“Our controller has an estimated tangent for Earth, which was supplied by Winston from Méridien archives, and it does not align with either course of these two ships,” Edouard replied.
Julien and Z calculated the answer in mere ticks and urgently linked Alex and Tatia.