by Chris Reher
Ausan nodded to her aide. “What is his name?”
“Nathon something Djari. Goes by Djari. He’s applied to work on the skyranch so we probably have a record of him here.”
Ausan’s lip twitched in amusement. “And you’d like to see him make his way there?”
“Well, yes. But mainly I’m just worried about how he’s doing.”
“We’ll see what we can find. You just get rested up, Lieutenant.”
“Yessir,” Nova said firmly. She watched the general leave through the tent flap held aside for her by her aide and then nearly collide with a soldier trying to enter. He stood aside and saluted as she passed him without comment.
“Gods, Rander, you idiot,” Nova said. “You almost knocked her over.”
The sergeant looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “Don’t think Lady Patrina is so easily knocked over.” He flopped onto her cot far more casually than their commander had just done. “How come you rate your own bedside general?” He gave her a bowl of pudding filched from the mess hall.
She accepted the bowl and decided not to scold him for scattering dust over her sheets. She had recently become very fond of clean bedding. “Congratulating me, I guess. No one even told me why she’s out here.”
“Mopping up this mess, of course. Plus she found out that Major Trakkas is shuffling his pilots to places they have no business being and I think that irked her plenty. I hear she almost had his stripes when she heard you were MIA. Misplacing a pilot is a bit of a problem, I guess.”
“Is that why he sent that commando after me? With Beryl at the helm?”
“Yah. They caught your signal. Nothing more fun for Beryl’s bunch than tracking rebels. Must have been a party for them. They never seem to get prisoners back in one piece. Going to finish that?”
“Yes. Hands off.” Nova savored the sweet treat. “Sending Beryl must seem amusing to him.”
“To Major Trakkas? Why?”
Nova shrugged. “Long story.”
“Give me some gossip, Loot! I heard you punched him out.”
“You guys are like little old ladies. I barely touched him.” Nova stared into her pudding. No one had mentioned her attack on Captain Beryl. No one had asked about the death of those civilians. Collateral damage in shades of grey where both of them had stepped over the line. A matter best left in the dark, perhaps.
Sergeant Rander reached over to nudge her hand, bandaged where the skin of her knuckles had split on Beryl’s teeth. “He got sent out with his squad, but when I saw him his face was a shiny purple mush. An improvement, some say.”
She shook her head to push the memory aside. “I’m out of here, too. Guess I’m getting my plane back, finally.” She set the empty bowl on a table beside her cot. “I’m sorry about Reko. Tell the others he did his job. There wasn’t any way he could have avoided getting shot.”
Rander winced. “Yeah, I know. We were briefed. He was a good soldier. We lost thirty-two troops, plus Beamer’s unit in the hills. Almost two hundred civilians. As many shipped off to hospitals. Could have been worse, I guess.”
“Could have been better, too.”
Chapter Six
“This is the fourth time I’ve brought this ship in here and you people ask me the same thing every single time. It gets tiresome.”
Nova kept her eyes on the data display scrolling a list of the new arrival’s inventory. Her scanners reported a shipment of foodstuffs not found on Bellac Tau along with barrels of liquor from Feyd and what scanned like bales of fabrics, possibly clothing. There were also about a dozen passengers in one of the cabins. Her findings were confirmed by the sensors of Lieutenant Rolyn’s Kite on the other side of the transport.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“You know I have to go through all this at customs,” the captain of the trade ship complained.
“Your destination is Siolet, then?” Nova entered the name of Bellac Tau’s largest city into her system. Besides housing the Union’s base there, it was also its primary trade hub. “Not the skyranch?”
“You know damn well I’m going to Siolet! Why don’t you go chase rebels instead of bothering traders?”
“Rebel activity has increased in this sub-sector, sir. Your safety is our prime concern. Do you require an escort to the planet?”
“Your rebels aren’t going to chase me for my dresses. I told you I’m going to Siolet. I don’t need you to follow me to make sure of that.”
Her shift partner cut in, unheard by the civilian. “You’re so polite, Whiteside. He’s going to pop a vein for sure.”
She grinned. “Anything on voice?”
“Yeah. Human. Not so much irritated as scared spitless. Spiking all over the place. Can’t see what he’s hiding in there, though. Those could be slaves.”
“Let Ground handle this one.” Nova returned her attention to the trader. “It’s no trouble at all, sir. We’re glad to help you arrive safely.” She watched Lieutenant Sool pull forward and take up position beside the transport ship, ready to escort it to the surface. “We wish you and your crew a very pleasant stay on Bellac Tau.”
Nova closed the com link and sent their findings to the carrier hovering not far from the jumpsite. Their squadron had patrolled this area for fifty of Bellac’s short days in anticipation of saboteurs that might have dodged patrols on the other side. The Air Command relay station near the jumpsite, still under construction, was a likely target. Once it was staffed and fully armed, the squadrons would leave for their next assignment.
“You’re a wicked woman, Whiteside,” Rolyn said.
Nova signaled him to return to the jumpsite to join the rest of their flight and await the next arrival. “We were told to be courteous, weren’t we? Been a quiet day, sort of. I like that.”
“Since when?”
Besides a shipment from Targon of materials for the unfinished relay, they had monitored just five arrivals during their shift. Three had exchanged polite conversation with the tedious but necessary Air Command checkpoint, one had tried to bribe them and was tagged as smuggler but harmless, and this was the only one today to complain about Union presence here. Predictably, it also seemed to be the one with the most to hide.
To traverse these instant sub-space connections between far-flung sectors required powerful shields and even more powerful processors. Commonly, massive transport fleets provided berths to lighter vessels for the passage. It made for crowded ships and chaotic inventories. The liners, meant for migration and trade, often smuggled rebels between sectors and presented the greatest challenge to Air Command patrols.
“Black sky cruiser coming in from Bellac,” they heard Lieutenant Sulean’s voice. “Origin Panyan. In a hurry.”
“Panyan, eh?” Heiko Boker cut in. “Not a lot of traffic coming out of that continent. Is this something new?”
“Negative. No air fields in that jungle. Looks like our visitor took a round trip to hide home base. Piece of junk. Strange configuration.”
“Your turn to get the story, Heiko,” Nova said.
Boker and his wingman moved to intercept the new arrival. Nova scanned the ship while he made his respectful inquiries. “Surprised that thing made it this far,” she said over a closed band. “But fully shielded. I can’t even get a good look inside. Want to bet it’s carrying something it doesn’t want us to see? Might want to get your fangs out, Boker.”
The squad moved into a slightly more aggressive formation as the cruiser approached the jumpsite without slowing as was expected in this area.
“Well, he’s not talking to us,” Boker said after repeating his request for identification. “Tower?”
“We’ve notified Soliet,” came the reply from the carrier. “Do not engage. Stand by.”
“I feel they are definitely lacking respect and common good manners,” Boker grumbled but stood down to let the cruiser pass. Without permission from Bellac’s governors none of them had the authority to waylay a traveler, even if the captain chose to ig
nore a simple hail.
“What did I just see?” Rolyn yelled.
The others, too, took a moment to realize that the large cruiser had disengaged two smaller ships, no bigger than the Kites themselves. The main body veered and headed for the relay construction, firing as it approached on a collision course. The separated components streaked toward the jumpsite.
“It’s going to try to ram the relay,” the Air Boss transmitted. “We’ve got this. Engage the two bogeys.”
Nova whipped her Kite around and raced after the escaping ships.
“Jumpsite is opening,” Boker said. “I’m right behind you, Whiteside.”
Indeed, their systems warned them that someone aboard the small enemy ships was powering up to incite the breach in space to create an opening large enough to allow them to enter.
“Who the hell’s aboard this thing? What fucking nerve!” Boker yelled. He fired into the lead ship’s shields. The other plane, not busy with opening this gateway to Magra, returned his fire and kept all of them dodging and weaving in their wake.
“Going in,” Nova said.
“Shit,” Rolyn replied. They were all aware of his aversion to travelling through sub-space. It was a common phobia, even among pilots.
“Stay here, Rolyn,” they now heard Captain Dakad from the carrier. “Boker, Sulean, Nieri, Whiteside. Go.”
Nova set her course to follow the lead ship into the breach at ever-increasing velocity, letting them use up their coolants to calculate the passage. Sulean’s guns streaked past her and the second ship spun away, disabled. “Nice shot, we’re going—”
Nova’s remaining words were only in her head. They had passed the threshold into the ‘Big Empty’ and hurtled into the frightening nothing-void of sub-space. She saw nothing, or at least there was nothing that her brain seemed to recognize any more. Felt nothing. Heard nothing. She was unable to move and only her thoughts felt alive, reaching a panic state that, for some, could cause lasting damage during a long jump.
This was not a long jump and the breach soon spewed the ships back out into real space to scramble for bearings. Nova’s neural interface grappled for the momentarily disrupted controls and she wasted no time in scanning for their quarry. It was also tumbling through space ahead of them and, as she watched, steadied and changed course.
“Battle cruiser ahead!” Boker called.
“I see it,” Nieri said. “Probably thought we’d take the carrier through instead of the Kites. Damn.”
“We’ve got time,” Nova said. She reached for her console to override the power management system.
“Time to get roasted, maybe,” Sulean answered. “We’re in range. Their range.”
“Whiteside…” Nieri began.
Nova punched every bit of power into her Kite, shortcutting a few routines via her interface to coax more speed from her plane. It raced ahead of the others, pushing the limits of the machine to bring the enemy fighter into her gun sights.
“Should have just said hello when we asked, assbucket!” Boker chortled when her guns took the ship down. “Uh oh.”
“Out of here!” Nova shouted and then held her breath while her Kite seemed to make the turn back to the jumpsite far too slowly. The cruiser had issued a swarm of Shrills in retaliation, looking like angry insects around a hive. The other three Union pilots fired past Nova to hold back the enemy planes as she raced toward the jumpsite. “Going negative,” she warned as the first to arrive there. She directed her ship’s processors toward the site, feeding energy forward to create the opening.
“Remind me, Whiteside, you do have your chartjumper creds, right?” Sulean asked, somewhat nervously.
She did not reply, too focused on the mental connection with her plane. Once again, they plunged into the breach, losing all senses until they had crossed the unimaginable distance between Magra and Bellac Tau.
The other ships awaiting them veered out of the way to let the four Kites right themselves.
“Might be some Shrills coming through, team,” Nieri said, unruffled by any of this. “Do we still have a relay?”
“Everyone’s accounted for, Lieutenant,” the Air Boss transmitted. “That delivery didn’t make it. Salvage team is on the way. Return to base, Sulean. You’re reading a little jittery. Status, Nieri.”
“Enemy battle cruiser over there,” the pilot said. “Complement unknown. We took down the bogey. Whiteside’s probably a little short on coolant.”
“Heard. We’ll alert Magra. Resume patrol pattern. We’ll send replacements early.”
The squad hovered around the jumpsite, waiting for any sign that it might be opening to admit the enemy Shrills, perhaps even the battle cruiser, into Bellac space. It didn’t happen. Whoever had awaited the two rebels over there had decided to cut their losses.
“Too scared to come over here with their fancy cruiser and engage properly,” Nieri guessed.
“Just think,” Boker said, sounding meditative. “We were almost home there for about a minute or two. Hard to imagine.”
“Where’s home, Heiko?” Nova asked.
“Got family on Zera. And here I am, back on the other side of Trans-Targon again. Should have dropped by to say hello.”
She chuckled. “It’s another jump from Magra to that sub-sector. And about five days in real space between jumpsites to get there.”
“Well, still closer than this blip on the map.”
“Where’s home for you, Nova?” Rolyn asked.
She looked up from her controls and out into space. “Right now right here, I guess.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well…”
An hour later a trader came through, somewhat startled by the squad’s battle-ready formation, to inform them that there was no one near the jumpsite terminus on the other side.
“Boys and girl, our relief is here,” Boker announced not long after that. “Gather round, another busy, busy day in the service of our glorious Commonwealth Union is about to conclude with a considerable imbibement of glorious grain spirits personally smuggled from Bellac by your role model, Lieutenant Heiko Boker.”
“You are such a drunk, Boker,” Nova said and moved to formation.
“Role model for my pet churry, maybe,” another pilot said.
“Imbibement-whatever you said isn’t even a word,” Rolyn added.
“Don’t grief me, Rolie,” Boker shouted. “We’re on the brink of three days’ worth of downtime. Admire my stupendous splendicity or I’ll go to Siolet without you.”
“Nice work, Rolie!” Nova said. “Three days having your quarters all to yourself.”
“Wait a minute…” Boker said.
“What’s your count now, Whiteside?” Lieutenant Nieri asked. So far, Nova had not been able to accumulate many of the sort of flight hours needed for her Hunter Class minimum. For the most part, they had cruised around, mindful of Captain Dakad’s complaints about wasting fuel, and harassed the tourists. What she needed to qualify was documented precision flying or combat.
“This little jaunt’s going to buy me four points, at least,” Nova said. “Five if I’m lucky.” Jumping in a Kite through sub-space, even just via a charted breach, certainly counted. “We need to start a brawl like this every day.”
“Why five?”
“Depends on Dakad’s mood,” Boker supplied. He drawled his words as if that somehow made him sound more like a Centauri. “If he says: ‘That was damn bold, Whiteside, good job,’ she’s got the point. If he starts yelling about chasing bogeys toward an enemy battle cruiser stuffed with Shrills she can forget about it.”
The last of the Kites, except for Lieutenant Sool currently on his way to the surface with the disgruntled would-be smuggler, had joined formation and they now swooped past their arriving replacements to head back to the carrier.
Nova was not particularly eager for time off. She did not care to join the others in whatever carousing they had in mind for their time in the capital. There was nothing for her at the base and rema
ining aboard the carrier just meant that someone would surely find work for her to do. She listened silently to her squadron mates’ artless banter while they slipped their Kites into the carrier’s narrow chutes to be turned over to the hangar crew.
The daily debrief was of course focused on the mysterious and, as usual, random rebel attack on their carrier. Reports about the battle cruiser in the Magran sub-sector had not yet been forwarded. Nova pulled her head between her shoulders when her Kite’s recordings of the last part of the chase were displayed. Captain Dakad pinned Boker with a violet glower when he said, “Good job, Whiteside.” Rolyn gave her a congratulatory punch on the shoulder.
Finally, Dakad held up a hand when the pilots started to shift in their seats, expecting dismissal. “One more thing,” he said. “We’re a go for rotation. We’ll transfer to the skyranch for a couple of sets so you can get familiar with the place. Have your quarters cleared before downtime – we’ll be billeted on the orbiter.” He looked meaningfully at some of his men. “I want those cabins left spotless. I want you ready to clear out the moment we dock. What you do then with your downtime is up to you. You can take the shuttle to Siolet or stay on the skyranch.”
“Yesss,” Nova whispered happily. Although the orbiter was still very much under construction, she had been eager for a chance to look around. No doubt some of the others were also rethinking their plans. Her memories of a few years spent on a skyranch were happy ones. Routines and rules were less stringent than those on the bases where she had lived and she had found friends among the other children. Somehow there had always been something to do between the lessons and chores designed to keep them all out of trouble.
She also looked forward to joining up with Caga squad, part of her wing and already stationed at the skyranch. Unlike her own, that squadron included several female pilots and Nova looked forward to gentler company, perhaps even an interesting roommate.
But something else was foremost on her mind. Had Djari made it up to the ranch? During these past few weeks of duty aboard the carrier, she had heard nothing more about him or any of the others that had survived the Shon Gat siege. Memories of that one sweet moment they had shared kept returning to her but when she recalled his face she saw only the reproachful look he had given her before he disappeared.