by Joe Vasicek
The colonel shrugged. “None of us intends to lose this war,” he said. “With a strong leader, perhaps we could even pull off a victory at Eyn-Gatta.”
He’s trying to manipulate me, Katsuichi realized. He doesn’t think we’ll succeed, so he wants to flatter me into taking responsibility so that he won’t be blamed if we lose.
But that also meant he couldn’t share in the glory if they won.
“We owe the Federation a great debt of honor for defending us from invasion these many years,” Katsuichi said. “The least we could do to repay that debt is to crush the Hameji forces massing at Eyn-Gatta. If the other fleet commanders will follow me, I will lead them.”
“You do realize that in the last twenty or so years of this war, the Hameji have yet to suffer a strategic defeat?”
Katsuichi grinned. “Neither have we, Colonel Webb. Will you join your forces with mine?”
The two junior officers looked to the colonel uncertainly. He returned Katsuichi’s gaze without flinching and nodded.
“Aye, we’ll join you. Though I’d prefer to leave the balance of my fleet in the rear, to facilitate a quick retreat should it become necessary.”
“Understandable,” said Katsuichi, nodding. All the more glory for the rest of us.
Colonel Webb rose to his feet, followed by his officers. “In that case, Your Highness, I’ll return to my flagship to begin our preparations. My men will send you the latest intelligence to help you plan the operation.”
“Excellent. I look forward to working with you, Colonel.”
“Likewise, Your Highness.”
They saluted, and the colonel left. As the door hissed shut, Kenta let out a long breath.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, young master?”
“My father always said it is best to keep your enemies close,” Katsuichi answered. “Besides, this is the perfect chance to repay our debt and free ourselves from the burden of honor we owe the Federation.”
“Very well, Your Highness.”
A chime announced an incoming call. Katsuichi frowned and checked the display in front of his seat; it was from the bridge. He activated the channel.
“Your Highness, we have received an urgent message for you on a courier ship from home that arrived only minutes ago.”
“Very well. What is the message?”
“Your sister, Princess Hikaru, has gone missing. The palace staff has no idea where she may be or what has happened to her. They have locked down Fukai-Nami but suspect she may have left the planet.”
Katsuichi’s eyes widened, and his stomach dropped out from under him. “Hika? She’s been kidnapped?”
“Her servants claim that she ran away, but we don’t know where. Our forces have been put on alert, but no official statement has yet been made.”
But why? Why would she run away? How can this be happening?
“If our enemies get word of this,” Kenta whispered, “they could use this to their advantage. I propose we send a small, private force to discreetly handle this problem and proceed as if nothing has happened.”
Katsuichi swallowed and nodded. He felt as if the room was collapsing in on him, but he forced himself to put on a strong face. No doubt he would need it often in the days to come.
“Very well, then. Give the Imperial Guard full discretion, with orders to handle it quietly. And inform me as soon as anything changes.”
“Sir.”
As the connection switched off, Katsuichi sighed and collapsed back into his seat with his head in his hands. Kenta put a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness. I’m sure she’ll be found and rescued.”
“I hope so,” said Katsuichi. Suddenly, all his preparations for battle seemed as small and insignificant as a tempest on an uninhabited world.
Part II
Chapter 6
Roman stepped heavily through the open door to the officer’s lounge and grunted as he took his customary seat in the front corner. A quick glance around the cozy room showed that all the officers were back from leave—even the new cybernetics officer, Lieutenant Al-Najmi. She leaned against the wall in the back, arms folded across her chest. On the foldout couch nearby, Lieutenant Yuri Avanadze sat with his arm around his wife, the doctor. Mikhail Konstantin, the chief engineer, sat in the chair next to them, laughing good-naturedly at some joke. The gray-haired drone fighter specialist, Corporal Zura Tajjashvili, sat next to the ventilator with the smoldering butt of a cigarette nestled between his fingers. His old, sunken eyes met Roman’s, and the two men nodded in silent acknowledgment of each other. Though neither of them had served in the same unit during the short-lived revolution, they were some of the only remaining members of the crew with enough years behind them to remember the old days.
Captain Danica Nova stood in front of the entertainment center, which had been retracted back into the wall. Her face was stern, her expression unreadable, same as with every briefing. Roman detected no unusual pulse or heat signatures on her body, no hidden anxieties or tension beneath the surface of her commanding demeanor. With luck, this next mission would be an easy one.
“Men,” said Danica, nodding to no one and yet everyone at the same time. Instantly, the room fell silent, and all eyes turned toward her.
“Fifteen minutes ago, I received an urgent call from our employers at New Rigel. They have a job for us.”
“Good,” said Lieutenant Yuri, leaning forward in his seat. “How soon do they want us to head out for the rift?”
“Actually, they want us to withdraw from the main fleet. We are to conduct a private mission in conjunction with the palace guard. If we’re lucky, we might not see any combat at all.”
The lieutenant’s expression fell, and his body stiffened. Doctor Avanadze reached out and gently rubbed his shoulders, but Roman knew that the young man’s spirit would not be calmed so easily.
“Five standard days ago,” Danica continued, “Her Imperial Highness Hikaru fled the palace on Fukai-Nami and took a commercial ferry shuttle into orbit.”
She keyed a command onto her wrist console, and the holographic projector on the coffee table displayed a three dimensional image of the princess. Roman squinted; she was a pretty girl, probably in her late teens, with a slender, well-developed body and eyes that betrayed a wild and spirited character. She wore one of the fancy kimonos of the royal family, but from the expression on her face, it seemed that she’d be more comfortable in something else.
“According to her servants, the princess left the palace of her own volition. However, the palace guard informs me that there are several rogue elements both inside and out of this system that would readily seize her if they knew she was unprotected.”
“So they want us to get her back?” asked Zura, stabbing his cigarette in the retractable ashtray next to the ventilator.
“Essentially,” said Danica. “Discretion is a priority, which is why the palace guard contacted us first.”
“And what about the Hameji?” asked Yuri, his lips curled up at the edges. “What about the upcoming campaign? This isn’t a time to be chasing after a runaway princess—not when the Hameji are almost within our grasp.”
“The captain will decide which mission is best to take,” Roman interjected, turning to face the young lieutenant. “We are not Federation soldiers—it is not our fight.”
“Have you forgotten who slagged Tajjur V?” Yuri shot back. “Who slew our mothers and sisters and exiled us from our homeworld? If we’re ever going to have a chance to avenge ourselves, this is it.”
“Vengeance makes for poor business,” said Roman, his voice low. He narrowed his eyes. “Or have you forgotten who is in command of this ship?”
Lieutenant Avanadze drew in a deep breath as his wife quietly urged him to back down. For a second, he looked as if he would lash out again, but the anger slowly deflated out of him and he sat back in his seat, shoulders slumped.
“All right,” he muttered, “but still, I think we should—”
“As the sergeant has made clear, this decision is not up for debate,” said Danica, her voice sharp. “If you would rather enlist with the Federation, then you may go with my blessing.”
“We’re fine,” Maia interjected before her husband could say anything. “Yuri is just a little overzealous, that’s all.”
Just like all of you young upstarts, Roman thought to himself. Your memories are too short to remember who conquered our homeland first.
“I have no doubt that we will all see a great deal of action quite soon enough,” said Danica. “If the Federation campaign keeps going as well as it has been, I’m sure the Hameji will see to that.”
The older officers chuckled, including Roman. Yuri and Maia did not, while in the back of the room, the girl from Gaia Nova looked on in silence. Danica keyed her wrist console, and the holographic projection shifted to a starmap of the local sector, with the New Vela and New Rigel systems in the center.
“The princess is traveling on at least two stolen passports. Fortunately, the palace guard has tracked down most of the ones she’s using. Our intelligence indicates that she left the main station just yesterday, on a third-class passenger liner headed for New Vela. Flight schedules indicate that she should arrive at the seventh planet in a little over an hour.”
“If she’s still traveling under that name,” Zura muttered. “What’s to stop her from leaving on one passport and jump ship before she arrives on another?”
“Unfortunately, not very much,” said Danica. “For that reason, we need to move out as soon as possible. The palace guard has given us all the clearances we need, so once we arrive, our task should be pretty straightforward. Roman?”
“All soldiers are either on board or en route to ship,” said Roman, already connected to the network through the datalink implants in his head. “The last ferry shuttle should arrive at station in less than forty-five minutes.”
Danica nodded. “Very good. Let me know as soon as they’re all on board.”
“Pardon me, Captain,” said Mikhail, “but suppose this girl trades her passport for a less traceable mode of transport?”
“The palace guard gave me a detailed profile on this girl,” said Danica. “I haven’t had a chance to read it extensively, but from what I can tell, she’s far too sheltered to get very far on her own. It’s possible, of course, that someone might kidnap her, but there’s not much we can do to prevent that at this point. For now, we must assume that she’s traveling under one of the fake names and has obtained passage to New Vela. If the situation changes, we’ll change with it.” She paused to survey the room. “Any other questions?”
Corporal Tajjashvili raised his old, calloused hand.
“What kind of payment can we expect for this job?” he asked, leaning back in his chair as he folded his arms.
“Standard rate, plus a bonus of eighty thousand Rigelan Yen per person upon the princess’s safe return.”
The shift in enthusiasm was like the flare from a supernova. Several of the officers whistled or slapped their knees. “These Rigelans must be desperate,” Mikhail said to no one in particular, grinning from ear to ear.
Danica waited patiently for the chatter to die back down. “We don’t usually take jobs of this type, but the terms for this one were lucrative enough that I decided to make an exception. If there are no more questions, we leave in forty-five minutes.”
Roman chuckled. With everyone thinking of the ways that they would spend their money after the mission was completed, the meeting was all but finished.
As the officers filed out of the room, Danica gave Roman a brief but meaningful glance. He nodded and stayed behind the main group, waiting for the rest of them to leave. When they were gone, Danica walked over to the door and keyed it shut, so that they were alone.
“How is Lieutenant Al-Najmi doing?” she asked, folding her arms.
“She seems to be reasonably competent,” said Roman, carefully choosing his words. “I have not yet seen her in action, so of course I cannot be certain, but I think she will be strong asset.”
“Do you trust her?”
He hesitated. “Do you?”
Danica sighed and rubbed her forehead, betraying a degree of human weakness that she didn’t normally let the others see. Roman recognized it as the normal tension that one always felt in the air before every new mission. For his men, that tension translated into excitement and boyish anticipation, but for the commanding officers such as Danica and himself, the weight of responsibility tempered their enthusiasm.
“Of course I trust her, Roman. It’s the rest of the men I’m worried about. She’s the only Gaian on a crew of hardened Tajji soldiers—it’s going to be hard for her to fit in.”
“This is true,” Roman grunted. He remembered how she had sat at the back of the room during the briefing, watching impassively without saying a word.
“If there’s any disunity between her and the others, that’s going to hurt our fighting effectiveness,” said Danica. “I want you to try to reach out to her and build some rapport. I know she’s not technically under your command, but if you could take her under your wing, I think it would help tremendously.”
Roman clenched his fingers into a fist and bristled. “You wish for me to become mentor to this girl?” A strange warmth grew in his chest, making his muscles cringe and sending short bursts of pain through the non-cybernetic parts of his body.
“Not a ‘mentor,’ exactly. But if the other men see you both take to each other, that would help them warm up to her.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but realized he had nothing to say that wouldn’t contradict her. He drew in another long breath, and realized his natural arm was shaking.
“I know that your prejudices run against her,” said Danica. “But you’re also in a unique position to understand each other. For example, your neurological implants are very similar to hers, and I’m sure that affects how you both see things. At the least, it’s something you have in common with her.”
“Perhaps,” said Roman, not committing to anything.
Danica sighed. “I don’t want to ask anything that’s too difficult of you. This is more of a personal request than an order, so if it’s too much to ask, please let me know. But as one old friend to another—”
“Of course,” said Roman. “For you, of course I will do it.”
Danica smiled and put a hand on his natural arm. “I have no doubt you’re the right one for this task, Roman. The men all say you’re like a father to them.”
“Perhaps, Captain. But you—you are their mother.”
She laughed in a clear, honest way that was only reserved for her closest friends. “A stern old hag of a mother, I’m sure.”
“It is why they feel so much at home.”
“Well, may it long be so. Thank you, Sergeant.”
Roman saluted before stepping out of the room. Even though the gesture was as crisp as it ever had been, it was all he could do to keep his hand from shaking.
* * * * *
Katsuichi tried not to think of Hikaru as his admirals and commanders filed into the board room. Several of them eyed Colonel Webb with suspicion, but the Federation officer merely smiled in return, his men gathered around him at the far side of the table. In the center, a semi-transparent holographic image of the white-dwarf star Eyn-Gatta hovered in the air, rotating slowly to give everyone a clear view. Red rings marked the orbital paths of the major asteroids and settlements; the star had no planets to speak of. A cluster of triangles represented the last known positions of the Hameji battle fleets.
“Commanders,” said Katsuichi once everyone was seated. “I have called you together to discuss our battle plans for the upcoming operation. I know that many in the Federation are wary of moving offensively at this point, but the slowness of the Hameji advance and the fact that they have not yet entered the rift convinces me that we can act swiftly and decisively to halt their advance.”
A few of the comma
nders nodded in approval, but many of them stared at him with blank faces, unconvinced. Katsuichi nodded to Admiral Uematsu.
“Our latest intelligence indicates that the Hameji fleet is orbiting at a mere point-oh-five AU from the system sun,” said the old man. “The star’s magnetic field serves to both shield their movements and prevent all but the smallest hit-and-run attacks.”
“Well, of course,” said one of Colonel Webb’s men. “If one of our battleships tried to jump in on their current position, it could end up falling into the system sun.”
“That’s why we won’t jump onto their position directly,” Katsuichi explained. “Our first wave, commanded by myself and Colonel Webb, will jump to this position here.” A point flashed on the holographic image, just on the opposite side of the Hameji fleet from the star. Five blue triangles represented a significantly reduced force—about half of the Rigelan battle fleet.
A murmur rose from the commanders around the table, mostly from the men under Colonel Webb’s command. They seemed significantly less disciplined than Katsuichi’s own officers. He nodded to Admiral Uematsu, who waited patiently for the commotion to die down.
“The Hameji have positioned two satellite clusters on equilateral orbits to monitor the far side of the system sun. Knocking out these satellites will create a blind spot extending outward like a cone about point-five AU in length.”
Katsuichi leaned forward with his hands on the table. “The first wave will draw out the Hameji fleets by posing as a failed attempt at a surprise attack. In the meantime, we’ll take out the satellites remotely with a series of jumped warheads, giving the rest of our forces an opening to move into position for a pincer movement along the orbital plane.”
He keyed a command on the datapad at his seat, and a large darkened cone extended around the back end of the star. Ten blue triangles in two separate clusters flashed into existence within the cone, while the red orbital changed to an arrow pointing directly at Katsuichi’s fleet. As the Hameji forces moved up the gravity well to attack, two blue arrows extended around either side of the star, and the Federation reinforcements swung around as quickly as comets to attack the Hameji fleet on both flanks.