“And well done, Alpha Platoon!” he beamed. “Your first deployment on this cruiser and you were ready just as fast as the Marines ever were. Bravo!” he laughed, the sound carrying through the ship. “It was a good alert. I always like to make sure we are at battle stations whenever we make the drop back to real space, just in case there's something waiting to surprise us, eh? Makes sure we surprise them!”
Some of the bridge crew chuckled along. Beaufort's enthusiasm was infectious, always had been.
The captain switched off the intercom. “All right, bring us along side the tender and come to a dead stop. Open up a channel. I want to express my astonishment that we weren't waiting here half a week like the last time.”
“Aye, sir,” Ranaissa replied with a smile in her voice. She couldn't wait to see the reaction on the other CO's face.
Toklamakun, Dominion Occupation Authority Orbital Command Post
The skies above the bombed-out dust ball were crowded by the hulls of the Dominion's 3rd Fleet. Like ants, the supply tenders and tugs of the orbital maintenance, repair, and fleet supply depots swarmed around the gathered warships, pumping new reaction mass into their tanks and new missiles into their missile tubes.
Corr'tane had broken the Tuathaan frontline and given the Ashani navy a foothold in clanhold space. As expected, the Tuathaan had called in reserves and counterattacked, but by the time they arrived the Dominion's forces had been well entrenched, fiercely resisting any attempts to uproot them. After a few failed attempts the Tuathaan clans had to concede Báine, and with it five smaller colonies directly linked to the border world. Grudgingly they had pulled back to the next set of colonies while they tried to figure out just what had happened at Dunnan Gal. It would be weeks, maybe months before the Clanholds could again muster a force to challenge him or any other Ashani commander. Wedged in between the Dominion, the Ukhuri, and the Rasenni Empire there were limits as to how much the Tuathaan could reasonably withdraw forces from these other two borders to face the Ashani.
At the same time the Érenni had retreated to their home system in confusion and had sealed themselves up around their home world. In his opinion their actions weren't quite unlike burying their heads in the sand. Given the Republics' focus on deterrence through strong defenses, and given the losses inflicted on their mobile units around Senfina and the smaller systems the Dominion navy had taken, Corr'tane doubted the Érenni could muster enough reserves to threaten their flanks.
And soon the Ashani fleets in the area would arrive to form a cordon around their home world, and then the great battle that would see the species eliminated as a credible threat and their planet opened up for near future colonization would begin. And while Senfina was unfit for habitation, having sustained only a small colonial population before and having suffered greatly from orbital bombardment and a rain of debris, Dunnan Gal and Báine in Tuathaan space supposedly would soon be safe for the first prospectors to arrive.
Corr'tane's face twisted into a scowl. It all looked so neat on paper. Depopulate a planet, then repopulate it. A fast solution for their conundrum. The only solution for it, really, if he wanted the majority of his people to survive. His misgivings weren't moral in nature, but practical. Most of High Command and the other strategoi were convinced that the sooner populations were shifted off Karashan the better. The Council had decided aggressive colonization was the most effective way to consolidate their holdings. The idea was to put Ashani populations on colonies still smoking from orbital strikes and begin the process of building up infrastructure on the basis of what had survived and putting in place a civilian militia to supplement the garrisons and free up combat troops for more aggressive operations. Everybody seemed to be convinced of the folly that this was a short and easy war. That was what every politician throughout history had promised, and it was what too many commanders had come to believe, living examples included.
It was doubly frustrating for Corr'tane since he had been the one to relentlessly point out their plans' weak points earlier. Every transport ferrying civilians was a ship not carrying supplies to the front. And given the state of much of the conquered real estate, the transporters he would have to do without would be very numerous.
Worse still, as long as none of the warring factions had been truly defeated, it was putting the very people for whom this whole war had been planned in the first place, in danger.
Worst of all, the colonies themselves weren't safe yet. Even with modern isotopes the half-life of a neutron charge's radiation wasn't so short that one could plant civilians close to ground zero only weeks after. And places like Senfina and Báine had been subjected to dozens of explosions, hundreds even.
Last, but certainly not least, there were his own creations to be wary of. Yes, theoretically unleashing specifically programmed counter nano swarms should be able to neutralize his bio-engineered agents. But simple prudent caution demanded to wait at least half a year until the small plague carriers had run their course and become inert. Érenni and Ashani physiology were greatly different from one another, but there was no need to be careless with the lives of millions of your own civilians.
Still, he had tried to make his point, repeatedly, and had reached the end of his influence on the matter. That fact nagged at him more than he was willing to admit. In the meantime Corr'tane's own unit – 3rd Fleet – was preparing to redeploy to the next crisis point, the Republican front, to root out remaining outer pockets of Érenni defenders. High Command considered it a reprieve after the engagement at Dunnan Gal, but Corr'tane wasn't sure if the move wasn't meant to sideline him and put a lid on his crews' well deserved basking in their new found glory. He couldn't prove it, but it smelled of Strategos Tear'al's influence. He was a sub par field officer whom Corr'tane had rescued from destruction. He was nowhere to be seen, doubtless sulking and blaming his shame on Corr'tane, fate and the universe itself. The fleet he had commanded had been given to somebody else, and Tear'al was now back on Karashan and confined to a desk. For Corr'tane it should have been a moment to treasure, but back home his rival had open access to all echelons of power. He could make himself felt even without a thousand ships under his command. He was a problem, and sooner or later Corr'tane would have to find a solution for it...
The doors on the far side of the lobby hissed open as the second guest arrived. With a wide smile of genuine happiness the young strategos recognized his sister and moved to greet her. Pyshana's ship was shored up in a nearby dock undergoing extensive repairs. It probably wouldn't be ready before the war ended. Fortunately, Pyshana herself was in better condition with just a few stitches and injuries to her left arm, but nothing more serious.
“Brother!” she beamed, embracing him with her good arm, brushing a fleeting kiss onto his cheeks. “I'm so glad to see you well.”
“Same here, little sister,” he stepped back and proudly looked her in the eyes. “You've brought great honor to our family.”
“Please,” she blushed. “You know I don't like being the center of attention. That was always your place,” Pyshana added dryly. “No, I'm happy just to do my job.”
He laughed a little. “I remember your presentation ten years ago to the science council. You spoke well, and they were fools to ignore you.”
She looked stonily at the floor. “In everything I've ever done I've been ridiculed. The scientists laughed at me, the old strategoi mocked me, even our peers mock me. What does it take to show I am as good as they are?”
“But you've done just that, sister!” he answered her firmly. “You saved the attack on Senfina and kept the momentum of the invasion.”
“But you destroyed a fifth of the Tuathaan fleet and two colonies at the same time!” Pyshana pointed out, her exasperation only partially feigned. “How can I compare to that?” she unconsciously scratched at the medigel patch on her arm.
“Look at me,” Corr'tane said. “Look, this isn't a competition, this is about our people. They've made me a First Tier Strategos for wha
t I've done, and now it's your turn to be raised into a fleet command rank.” He took her head in his hands and gently put a kiss on her nose. “Come on, don't worry about what I've done. Look proudly at what you've achieved where others have failed.”
Pyshana sat down in a cushioned chair nearby and sighed. “Easier said than done, brother. I've always been in your shadow, you know: at school, at university, even now. I'll always be measured against you and not known in my own right.”
“Don't talk like that,” Corr'tane said sternly and took a seat next to her. They looked out of the viewport and down onto the dust-covered atmosphere of Toklamakun.
“You know, I don't really mind. It's not a bad thing, being in your shadow. It's safe. It's a place I can observe you at work and see how things should be, see how a role model acts. Habit of a lifetime,” she smiled lopsidedly.
“Not any more,” he smiled. “Now you make your own path and don't need to follow mine. You've proven yourself, little sister, and the whole galaxy saw it. Time to step into the light.”
She hesitated. “What if I don't want to? What if I'm not ready for this new responsibility?”
“You're ready, believe me, you are,” he encouraged. “You stepped up at Senfina. You showed there what you're made of, what I have always known about you. You're exceptional, you've got courage like no one else I know, and you will make a great and competent leader. Something we dearly need.”
“Will you help me?” she looked up at him.
“Haven't I always?” he replied warmly and took her hand. “I'm always here if you need me. You're all I have left in this life, the last of our family and the only thing which truly matters to me. I'll make sure you receive all your just rewards, I promise.”
Pyshana nodded, taking strength once more from her brother as she squeezed his hand, his long fingers entangling themselves with hers.
Since the day their parents had died Corr'tane had taken a strong lead, by instinct and the desire to protect his sibling as much as by necessity. Ashani society didn't foster much of a concept of supporting the weak or disadvantaged, at least not by means of government intervention. That's what extended family ties, patronage and charitable organizations were for. And even then the tacit understanding was that if you were put back on your feet by such an organization, you were to pay them back later by donations and by spreading their influence. Nobody really held your hand if you fell. If you weren't strong and resourceful enough to cope with a crisis you had no place calling yourself Ashani.
Pyshana was certain she would have failed and become a wretched beggar, doomed to die a young death, if Corr'tane had gone on by himself. Her brother had always been a hard man, and the past decade had made him even harder, but back then he had stayed with her – even at great cost and trouble to himself – and made sure they both had food and shelter. With help from their school's teachers who recognized their potential, they had been placed into a scholarship program and given a place to stay and food to eat in return for their work. But for those early years it had been Corr'tane who had kept her alive, and she still felt like it was he who was the one keeping her going now that they were adults with vast responsibilities of their own.
“It's always easier to hide away,” he whispered, “to duck down and let others ride out the storm. But this is your destiny, sister. Do not turn your back on it.”
Slowly she nodded. “All right, I'm feeling ready.”
“You mean you're terrified?” he raised an eyebrow and grinned wryly.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Good.” He nodded. “You'd be a fool not to be. You're about to be elevated to the second highest field rank our military knows, with all the power, but also all the responsibilities, attached to it. People give decades of service and never come within sight of such a title, but in your first battle you earned the right. What does that tell you?”
“That somebody really screwed up?” she offered laconically.
“Well, in a way they did, but the point is that you smoothed that out. You grabbed victory from the jaws of defeat, and the part of the battle you commanded actually cost us fewer ships than when that thrice damned fool led the fleet.” He stood a bit taller. “If he was a fleet commander, sister, then you have more than earned the right to be called a Strategos of the Ashani Dominion. High Strategos Kalla'shan is no fool, Pyshana. He wouldn't have given you the rank if he thought you weren't worthy.”
A chime sounded in the lobby, drawing both their attentions.
“All right, that's it. Nearly time,” Corr'tane said. “It'll be a short ceremony. War leaves little time for festive acts. Soon I'll have to get back to overseeing the progress on my fleet. We're about to be sent back to the front in a few days and there is still much to be done.”
“I don't know if I can do this,” Pyshana shook her head, long black hair loosening and falling into her face. “Am I ready?”
“What have we just said?” He reminded her. “This is your time, sister, your moment. Seize it, relish it. Remember all those who belittled you and held you down? Now is when you show them your true power. They are nothing now, but you are a Strategos. Embrace it.”
“Will you be there beside me?”
“As always,” he nodded. “I am always watching out for you.” He reached out and straightened her collar, then brushed some dust off her uniform. “Although by now I'd have thought you'd learn to dress yourself properly.”
“Shut up!” she joked.
“There,” he finished. “Father would be proud.”
“Do you think so?” she asked doubtfully.
“Of course! To see his two children both made strategoi? The youngest in our history? Of course he would,” he smiled knowingly. “Can you imagine his face if he walked through that door right now?” They both faced the entrance. “Can you guess his words? See his approval?”
“If he did he'd probably tell us to stop dressing up and go tidy our rooms,” Pyshana chuckled. “Even as strategoi he would always be telling us what to do.”
“And we would do it,” he nodded solemnly. “He was a stern man, a good man. He's always guarding us, as we must now guard our people. Think of him and think of mum. We're here because of them, and it is in their memory that we live.”
“I understand,” she replied hoarsely.
Corr'tane squeezed her hand a last time, then let go and rose to lead the way. Pyshana followed her twin brother.
The doors unlocked and slowly retracted, revealing a hall lined with officers. High Strategos Kalla'shan at the far end of the room looked splendid in his ceremonial uniform, all crimson and gold.
“Go on,” Corr'tane urged. “I'm right behind you, and when has anything bad happened while I was watching your back?”
Heartened by the support, Pyshana at last buried her doubts. Without further hesitation she marched into the hall and didn't look back.
U.V.S. JOHNSTON, North American Union Navy Cruiser
Foldspace, near the Coalsack Nebula.
Normalcy had returned to duty aboard the cruiser, which, for the most part meant boredom for Alpha Platoon. Captain Beaufort apparently was taking the ship on an anti-raider sweep through local systems, but unless JOHNSTON's sensitive tachyon suites detected a base in a star system where there shouldn't be one all Sammy and her comrades could do was sit around and check their gear for the umpteenth time. Known space held tens of thousands of star systems, and while not all of them were accessible through foldspace it was still like searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
The bulkhead to the platoon's shared quarters slid open.
“Hey, dirt humpers!” a gruff male called out.
Lee looked up from her partially disassembled carbine, recognizing a crewman from the earlier poker games. She furrowed her brows. “Petty Officer Carmachio, isn't it?” she asked. “No hard feelings about that Steenberg douche. We were going to get the game going again. How about you try and win back some cash?”
Th
e noncom snorted. “Don't mind if I do. And no worries about the 'Big S', we've got that under wraps.”
Sammy raised an eyebrow in surprise, but the petty officer simply shrugged.
“He's good at his job, but he had it coming. He's also usually smart enough to figure out who better not to make his enemy. Don't lose any sleep about him. He'll be in sickbay for the rest of the week to cool his heels.”
“So, about his injuries...?”
Carmachio grinned. “Oh, he told everybody who wasn't a witness that he was just way too clumsy and got himself clobbered in the alarm's commotion. Doc didn't look like she bought the story, but she's kept it at that.”
Alpha Platoon breathed a combined sigh of relief.
“So... up for a game of poker?”
“Hell yeah, and I've got a replacement for Steenberg, too. But my duty's calling first.”
Sammy nodded. “Later then?”
“Count on it. But the actual reason for my visit here is the guys had a proposition for you.” Carmachio stepped through the opening and let the bulkhead close behind him. “We've got a routine spacewalk ahead of us, checking the outer hull. It's a four man job, but most of the work's actually done by the repair bots. We meat bags are just there as the final arbiters of what needs fixing and what not. So taking one or two of you guys out for a ride's a possibility.”
“What, really?” Lee's jaw dropped open. This had been one of her lifelong dreams but had always been too expensive to try on the few days leave she had while in space.
“Yeah, really,” Carmachio leaned back against the wall. “You'll have to follow all of my commands, but according to your CO you guys aren't morons – ”
Opening Moves Page 34