by Terry Mixon
* * * * *
Kelsey wanted to smash something. Or someone. With her physical strength, that wasn’t exactly the safest frame of mind to be in.
She shed her guards at the door to the suite she shared with Talbot and headed right for the gym. He wasn’t home yet, and that was a very good thing. She didn’t want to take her fury out on him.
Since she could literally lift the weight machines, she turned her enhanced musculature off and focused on her regular muscles.
It’s okay to be angry.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she told the ghostly voice of Ned Quincy. The disembodied copy of the dead Marine Raider was lived in her implants, so he of course knew what had happened.
“Screw it,” she snarled before he could say anything else. “You’re damned right I’m angry. If you want to talk, you can use the projectors. I’m not doing this in my head.”
She’d had Sir Carl seed her quarters with holographic projectors, all except the master bedroom and bath. He might live in her head, but she wanted some privacy.
The figure of a man in casual clothes appeared sitting on the weight machine beside hers. If she hadn’t known he wasn’t real, she’d have had no clue he was a projection. The Old Empire had really known how to make good equipment.
Kelsey forced her weights up over her head, craving the burn. “Don’t try to calm me down,” she told the AI. “I’m not going to be placated.”
“The thought never crossed my mind. In fact, you might have better luck on the range.”
The mental image of incinerating Nathaniel Breckenridge with a plasma rifle was tempting. Perhaps a little too tempting.
Especially, since she had more than a bit of difficulty blaming him for this situation. The evidence that he’d been unaware of their genetic relationship was clear enough. He was too much of a power broker to have avoided using the knowledge a long time ago, even if only with Ethan.
No, she believed the man hadn’t known he was her father. That didn’t change a damned thing, though. It was a huge stinking mess. As if her life hadn’t been complicated enough already.
“I’m better off without a weapon in my hands right now,” she grunted. “I’m not sure who I’d shoot first: Breckenridge or my mother.”
She let the weights crash back down and slumped forward a little. “Holy hell, what do I do? If I tell my father, he’ll make some grand announcement. Shit. Breckenridge might beat him to it.”
“While this isn’t exactly good news, it isn’t terrible either. Honestly, so what if the man sired you? Does that really complicate your life more than being the heir?”
“Probably not,” she admitted, “but I’m not ready for some new relationship, especially with the uncle of the idiot that tried to kill us.”
“Then don’t. It’s not like you have to send him Christmas presents or invite him over for dinner. I specifically recall him stressing that. If you don’t tell your father, do you really think Breckenridge will leak the news?”
Kelsey sighed. “I have no idea. I suppose you’re right, but the bastard slept with my mother. He’s probably not the only one, either. I really should query the access list in the secret tunnel.”
“That’s stupid,” the AI said. “One or a hundred, it makes no difference.”
“I assure you that a hundred would make quite the difference,” she said tartly. “There’s a not-so-fine line between harlot and slut. God, I hope it’s not a hundred.”
She rubbed her face tiredly. “I’ll grant you that he readily admitted he made a serious mistake in judgement, but to be fair—which I really don’t want to do—he was a young man, and they tend to be easily swayed into mistakes by their genes and hormones. Not that it excuses him, but I’m not sure that many other men in a similar position would have refused.
“My mother was the instigator in this relationship. I’m sure of it. I guess that’s who I’m really angry with. She’s known all this time that I wasn’t Father’s, but she still condemned him and dragged us all through the muck when he made a mistake in judgement that he owned up to.”
The man nodded. “So, what can you do about that?”
“Not a damned thing, but you can be sure that this is going to result in an epic fight whenever I go to see her. Thankfully, I don’t have the time right now, so this is going to simmer for a long, long while. Maybe I can avoid strangling her if I have time to calm down.”
Kelsey heard the front door open. Talbot was home. She really wasn’t looking forward to telling him about this.
“Time for lights out, Ned,” she said as she stood. “I want some privacy.”
“Take it easy on him,” the man said as he stood and vanished. He’d have other ways of amusing himself that didn’t involve using her senses or the equipment in the suite.
She needed to see about getting him loaded into a different system. Carl said he was close. Frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough for her.
Time to get this done.
Kelsey headed for the living room. The door opened just as she reached for it, and she started to say something to Talbot.
Only it wasn’t her lover.
“Kelsey! I rushed here as quickly as I could,” her mother said as she rushed in. “Are you all right?”
Perfect.
* * * * *
Commander Brandon Levy stared at the woman sitting behind the desk in shock. It was the pilot from the flight deck. The one that had…
He pulled himself together. He’d obviously screwed up. Badly. This wasn’t the time to make it worse.
“I’m sorry, Captain. I didn’t know that was you.”
He knew how idiotic that sounded the moment he’d said it. Which didn’t help one bit.
“Obviously,” the young woman said dryly. “We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, so I suggest we try again. At ease.”
He allowed himself to relax slightly. He’d looked over her record, but clearly not well enough. He should’ve recognized her on sight. Only he’d been too angry to try that hard, and that had been a stupid mistake. The kind he wouldn’t allow to happen again.
No matter how good her record was, she’d only been the tactical officer on an almost obsolete destroyer. He had a decade of experience on her, but they’d bumped her three grades and put her in command of this tremendous ship.
She considered him a moment, then glanced at her comp. “Your record is excellent, Commander. You probably expected the Admiralty was giving you command of one of the new ships. I know this has to be hard, but we have to make the best of it. Are we going to have a problem?”
“No, ma’am.”
He wouldn’t allow his anger to get the better of him again. She might not have earned this command, but he’d damned well make sure it didn’t end badly for the Empire. He might not want to help prop up her inexperience, but he’d do his duty.
“Without judging, this morning’s conversation tells me that we need to come to a shared vision on how this ship is run,” she said. “This is the first carrier in Fleet since the Fall, and adapting to how she’s used is going to be challenging.
“I need you to keep an open mind. If, once you’ve had time to consider the new situation, you think something needs to change, I’m willing to hear you out.”
Her lips thinned. “What I’m not willing to do is accept reflexive judgements on capabilities that you don’t fully understand. Yet.”
Brandon nodded, and even agreed with her to a point. He’d allowed his anger at the situation to color his behavior. That was unprofessional and would not do. He’d listen carefully and keep his emotions under control.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She eyed him for a moment before nodding herself. “Very good. Let’s address the elephant in the room. Until just a few months ago, I was a lieutenant and a tactical officer. Now I’m in command of this ship. That has to chafe.”
He made a mental note to put her in for the Understatement of the Year Award, but said nothing.
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br /> Once she recognized that he wasn’t going to respond, she continued. “As it happens, I know very well that I’m not as experienced as you. I didn’t seek out this command, but someone had to do it.
“Princess Kelsey made the decision, in consultation with Admiral Mertz, to promote me and assign me to this command. Something I’m still more than a bit uncomfortable with, but I will carry out my orders.”
Admiral Mertz. The thought almost made him snort. Not that he was one of the people in Fleet inclined to hold the man’s birth against him. No, he knew Mertz by reputation. He’d more than earned his destroyer command. Honesty compelled Brandon to concede that Mertz should’ve been a captain years ago.
The man obviously had what it took. He’d read the classified summaries of what had happened on his mission, and Mertz had more than lived up to anyone’s wildest expectations.
Brandon didn’t think that entitled Mertz to be an admiral, but he wouldn’t have blinked at a promotion to commodore. So one more bump wasn’t too much of a stretch. Besides, as he’d heard the story, Princess Kelsey had ambushed him with the promotion. Much like Zia Anderson, he reluctantly admitted.
Logic wasn’t going to help him adjust to this situation. Fleet expected its officers to obey their orders, and he would do so. He just didn’t have to like it.
“My current executive officer is a good man, though about as inexperienced at his post as I am. He’s moving on to command one of the light cruiser escorts for the carrier group. We’re having a party for him tomorrow. I think you should be there.”
Of course he should be. That was just basic courtesy.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re not very talkative,” she observed. “Well, we’ll find our own rhythm as we become accustomed to one another. The part of the job you’re going to have to work on revolves around fighter doctrine.
“You’re going to have to play catchup on that one, but you’re in luck that we’re all still getting accustomed to it ourselves. I also see that you don’t have implants yet. That’s an even steeper learning curve to master, and they will influence every single aspect of your job.”
She eyed him. “What do you imagine implants mean for you, Commander Levy?”
“They’ll make doing my job easier, ma’am. Allow me to interface more directly with the ship to better manage it.”
He had no idea what that actually meant. Even after all the reading he’d done, he still didn’t really grasp the full implications of what the new technology could do.
Anderson nodded. “All technically correct, but that sounds rote. Frankly, it can’t be any other way. You have no idea the depth and power implants give an officer on this ship. Or honestly even what the ship is capable of. Audacious.”
“Yes, Captain Anderson,” a mellow male voice said from the overhead speakers.
“Attention to orders. Commander Brandon Levy will assume the position of executive officer as of 0800 tomorrow. Note it in the logs.”
“Aye, Captain. Welcome aboard, Commander Levy. This unit looks forward to working with you.”
He swallowed. He’d never heard of a computer that could sound so autonomous. He wasn’t sure if he should answer or not, so he defaulted to the polite thing.
“Thank you, Audacious.”
“The computer on this ship can run every system in a pinch, except for the weapons,” Anderson said conversationally. “Those require a human being by design. He also can’t remotely control the fighters, since they’re considered weapons. They usually operate too far away anyhow.
“Audacious is built on a modified superdreadnought hull and still has two-thirds of her weaponry. The fighters make her far more dangerous than Invincible, even without them. The three squadrons we have aboard could take a superdreadnought, though they’d suffer hideous losses. More to the point, they could take every original ship in Fleet present in this system without support from us. But only if they are used wisely.”
She considered him for a moment and then stood. “I think a demonstration of both implant and fighter operations are in order. Come with me.”
Anderson led him out onto the ridiculously large bridge outside her office. The man he was replacing rose from the wrap-around command console in the center.
“Keep the conn, Danny.” Anderson turned to Brandon. “Let’s take a seat at the observation consoles, Commander.”
He opened his mouth to ask what they were doing when a loud klaxon began screaming and the lighting changed to a reddish hue. The ship had just gone to general quarters.
The bridge crew focused on their consoles as the overhead speakers came to life. “This is a drill. I repeat, this is a drill. Long-range scanners have just detected an incoming Rebel Empire fleet. Come to heading two five zero by one seven five at maximum military power.”
It was Captain Anderson’s voice. Her lips hadn’t moved.
The speed in which the bridge crew performed was amazing. They seemed to be one with their consoles, hardly speaking and only occasionally manipulating the controls.
“The ship is actually still in orbit,” Anderson said. “I have the bridge controls in simulation mode. Operations is taking over their regular duties.
“The bridge crew is using their implants to do almost everything. The scanner readings and more are available right in their heads. They should be able to operate without the consoles at all. Audacious, cut power to the bridge.”
The compartment plunged into darkness, every console going dead all at once. Only the emergency lights and his console remained active. The bridge crew sat back and frowned in concentration. He assumed the ship continued operations without the slightest hitch, which was damned impressive.
“During the battle of Harrison’s World, Courageous lost power to the bridge and we would’ve died without the ship’s AI. Marcus is a lot more advanced than our computer. No offense, Audacious.”
“This unit is incapable of taking offense, Captain.”
“Restore power to Commander Levy’s console,” she said.
Brandon’s screen came to life showing the area of space the carrier supposedly occupied as it sped out of Avalon orbit. The scanners also showed what he assumed was a computer generated fleet racing toward them. It was almost as massive as the one Admiral Mertz had brought back to Avalon.
Audacious wasn’t alone. It looked as though the entire fleet was going out to meet the intruders as a unit. He assumed they were all computer generated.
Over the next hour, he watched as a stupendous battle took place. A preposterous number of missiles raced toward them and Admiral Mertz’s ships returned fire in kind. Then he ordered the fighters in.
The little minnows charged into the enemy formations, almost as fast as missiles themselves. Only they were much harder to kill.
They worked together in ways he couldn’t quite understand, but that were obviously practiced. Massive ships perished under their fire, but they took punishing hits in return. It might be hard to swat a swarm of insects, but they died when hit.
When they came streaming back to the carrier to rearm, there were less than half as many as had gone out. That kind of attrition broke units, but these people went about their duty without complaint.
Of course it was all a drill, so they weren’t real.
“Is that level of losses normal?” he heard himself ask quietly.
“No. We’re making this harder than we think it will be in real combat,” she said. “Of course, when the rebels killed Audacious, they all died. They went out four times. The last sally only had three fighters.”
She turned to face him squarely. “Those people are the ship’s real weapons, Commander. In combat, weapons have the right of way, so we always act accordingly. This isn’t ego. I didn’t tell you to wait for the fighters to land because I wanted to put you in your place. This ship exists as a platform to project their power and when doing so, they have precedence.”
He reluctantly nodded. “I can see I have some
work to do before I can understand everything I’m seeing.”
“Agreed. Tomorrow morning, I want you to report to Doctor Zoboroski for your implants. You can’t do your job without them. It’ll be light duty for you tomorrow, but Commander Leonidas can still show you everything you need to know before he leaves for his new command.”
Brandon still wasn’t convinced she really knew the best way to run this ship, but was willing to try to open his mind. One way or another, this was going to be a rough transition.
Chapter Six
Jared had a rough night. Sleep hadn’t come easily. He’d lain awake long after Elise was dreaming beside him.
She’d been unreservedly delighted at the news, and not just because it made her life simpler. Regardless of what the emperor said, she’d already flat out told him that she’d marry him if he’d been a normal man on the street because she loved him.
Her fierce determination told him it wasn’t posturing either. That made him feel good, but did nothing to lessen the nerves he still felt.
He rose quietly and made his way into the bathroom an hour before the alarm would have woken him. A long, hot shower at least put him a comfortable mental space.
Once he was dressed, except for his uniform tunic, he made breakfast. If he timed things well, he’d serve Elise breakfast in bed.
While he started the eggs, he checked his implants for any new messages.
Implant coverage in the capital was spotty, but that would change as more people required it. They’d wired his place fully. Even normal calls went to his implants.
There was a message from Kelsey waiting for him. He checked the time. It had come in right after they’d gone to bed.
Her image appeared in his mind’s eye. She looked like she needed sleep more than he did, which was unusual.
“I just saw the message from my father that he wants me at the Imperial Palace in the morning. Do you have any idea what’s going on? Also, I need to talk to you as soon as you get up. I have some unsettling news.”