“We’re receiving scattered reports of weapons fire on the grounds of the Alliance military base. We’re unable to confirm these accounts, as our reporters are being denied entry to the base and a barrier is preventing aerial coverage. We do have footage coming in of a skirmish between law-enforcement officers and military personnel near the Civil Administration Building.
“It is clear the conditions on the streets tonight are very fluid, and we urge everyone to stay indoors if possible. What isn’t clear is exactly who, if anyone, is in control of Seneca.”
They drifted 0.1 megameters above the lunar surface, having departed the Lunar SSR Center before violence erupted. Several hours remained until their mission began, so for now they could do nothing but watch the news feeds and, knowing something of what was in fact transpiring, wonder impotently whether the outcome would be in their favor.
The police and security departments had in reality never been under Alliance control and would not have assisted in enforcing martial law even if there were not a coup underway. Events inside the military base were certain to be far dicier.
The mission parameters forbade any contact with other resistance members, or anyone for that matter, given the small but non-zero chance someone in the Alliance could be eavesdropping. So they waited.
By the time the media figured out what was happening, it was already over, at least on the ground. The press conferences and prepared statements began to roll in fast and furious, all urging calm and all speaking the language of a new, independent, democratic government.
As expected, the Alliance ordered the Arcadia First Brigade to Seneca to establish a blockade. The news feed reporter wore a grave expression as he explained how commercial craft trying to leave Seneca would be ordered to land or risk being shot down.
Also as expected, Alliance forces on the nearby worlds of Elathan and Krysk, the only colonies in range possessing a combat-ready military presence, were put on full alert and two regiments ordered to Seneca to assist with the blockade. The meager details the media possessed scrolled in a repetitive loop on the feed overlay, and he soon tuned them out.
“Why did you decide to become a revolutionary?”
Stefan kept his gaze on the silhouettes of the planet and its satellite beneath them. “My kids. The Alliance claims to be a democracy, but it threw the principle out the window the second we caused it a tiny bit of discomfort. Overtaxing us because we thrive—then using the money to prop up its bloated bureaucracy—isn’t good policy, but marching in and removing our elected leaders by fiat due to a few worker riots? ‘Disappearing’ people who speak out against it? That’s not a democracy, that’s a dictatorship.
“Its leaders believe the Alliance is powerful enough to be both—a democracy on election days and a dictatorship on every other day—but they’re wrong. No government should be so powerful. It’s time someone demonstrates the error in their thinking.”
“Hmm.” Lekkas drummed her fingers on the dash. Having completed a thorough exploration of the new ship an hour ago, she had little to do until the action started. “What’s all that have to do with your kids?”
“I don’t want them to grow up in a dictatorship, obviously, or under any regime that can act as it chooses without repercussions. They have bright futures ahead of them, and I want better for their lives.”
She didn’t inquire further. She wasn’t exactly the talkative sort, but in this instance he chose to prod her. “What about you? Why are you here?”
“Live free or die, man. That’s my motto.”
He laughed. “Is it really?”
“Nah. Gianno was a persuasive woman, particularly after my Alliance superiors grounded me for smarting off about what were unequivocally stupid orders.”
He’d read her file and agreed they had been stupid orders. “Do you have any kids?” He also knew the answer to this question, but better for her to tell him.
“Daughter. She’s four. Wants to follow in her mom’s footsteps and fly starships. I’m not convinced I’m going to be able to stop her, stubborn brat.”
“Children do turn out to have wills and minds of their own. Husband?”
She snorted. “Hell, no. Her father—” She snapped up straight in the cockpit chair as the primary scanner lit up in red blips. “Looks like the Alliance brigade is here. Took it long enough.”
He blew out a long, weighty breath, paralyzed by the weight of the actions ahead of him but unwilling to display weakness in front of his companion.
He hadn’t wanted this mission. Terzi had thrown praise and platitudes in his direction, called him an honest man and a true believer and someone the resistance could depend on. Perhaps most of it was accurate, perhaps not. He was a patriot—to Seneca, not the Alliance—and he understood the necessity of this war. Its time had come, and he felt compelled to play his part. But he selfishly preferred someone else bear the guilt guaranteed to arrive once the adrenaline relinquished its grasp.
Suspicious it had grown wild, he ran a hand through his normally tame hair. “All right, we need to sneak in behind them. Do it now, while they’re distracted getting themselves situated. Remember, staying undetected takes top priority. If they spot us, we’re dead and this is all for naught.”
“Not to worry. This ship has a custom cloaking shield built using original tech. The Alliance has never seen its kind. They don’t know what to hunt for and wouldn’t recognize it if they did detect it.”
“I appreciate that. Still, don’t take any chances.”
She grumbled as they accelerated away from the moon. “Pretty sure I don’t take orders from you.”
The last thing he needed was a renegade pilot. He circled around her chair until he was between her and the dash. “And I’m pretty sure so long as I’m on this ship, you do. Intelligence mission, not military, remember?”
She stared at him, rich emerald eyes piercing through him. Then her chin dipped a fraction and she returned her focus to the HUD. “Whatever you say, Agent.” Her fingertips glided along the virtual controls. “Speaking of which, I didn’t get a name.”
“No, you didn’t.”
A growing crowd of vessels orbited the planet—a hodgepodge of long, bulky commercial carriers; lightweight merchant runners; and elaborate, tricked-out civilian transports.
They were blocked by a brigade-strength collection of Alliance warships. For now the warships kept their distance, maintaining a 0.5 megameter stretch of space between the departing craft and the unofficial front line of the blockade.
A handful had tried to make a run for it and been intercepted by fighters. Thus far the civilian vessels had always retreated, and shots had yet to be fired.
A number of the civilian vessels were equipped with laser weapons—certainly more than the Alliance contingent had anticipated. Many of them were effectively ringers, high-powered corporate craft sporting almost as much weaponry and hull shielding as military ships.
Stefan checked the time as unease gnawed at his gut. The civilians ostensibly wanting to leave were here, the Alliance warships were here…but the expected resistance ships were late. Had Gianno encountered greater difficulties on the ground than anticipated? Had she failed altogether? He had no way to know and didn’t dare risk a comm to find out.
They floated silently and fully cloaked in the middle of the Alliance blockade, trying to imitate a hole in space. Lekkas was peering out the viewport, scrutinizing the hulls of several vessels that lurked worryingly close.
“Think they’ll hear me if I start singing the Greek national anthem?”
“What?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nothing. When’s the cavalry scheduled to show?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
She arched a brow and settled back into her chair.
He tried for small talk to divert their attention from the ticking clock. “Have you ever seen live combat?”
“A year or so ago, when the Triene cartel made a hard run to claim Bellici for its own. It
took us a week to decimate them and another week to run off what was left. Couple of smaller skirmishes before then.”
“Why did—” He cut off as the imposing contours of two military cruisers accelerated in from starboard to take up positions between the civilian vessels and the Alliance formation. “Can we listen in on the wideband communications without alerting them to our presence?”
“Yep.” She punched in a series of instructions, and a new screen joined the already crowded HUD to display the transmission details. A few seconds later the audio feed kicked in, and an unfamiliar voice reverberated in the cabin.
Admiral Himura (EAS Fuzhou): “Captains of the EAS Inchon and EAS Verdun, you are in contravention of direct orders from Earth Alliance Strategic Command. If you do not surrender control of your vessels and retreat immediately, you will be deemed mutineers and subject to general courts-martial.”
There was no delay in the response.
Unidentified (SFS Verdun): “That’s a negative. We have commandeered all Alliance vessels on Senecan soil in the name of the Senecan Federation.”
Admiral Himura (EAS Fuzhou): What ‘Federation?’ You have no allies. You have nowhere to run. You are ordered to stand down now.”
Stefan’s hands tightened on the cockpit chair’s backrest as half a dozen frigates cleared the atmosphere below and joined the rebel cruisers. Maybe his involvement wouldn’t be required. He found himself hoping the Alliance would open fire and absolve him of responsibility.
The luminous halo of Seneca’s sun above the arc of the planet dimmed as two additional groupings of Alliance warships advanced. He realized his foot was tapping loudly on the skid-resistant flooring and forced it still. “This should be the regiments from Elathan and Krysk.”
Lekkas glanced over her shoulder at him. “They’re on our side, right?”
“That was the plan. Can’t say if the plan succeeded.”
Admiral Himura (EAS Fuzhou): “Fourth and Seventh Regiments, adopt positions flanking the mutinying ships.”
Unidentified (SFS Ankara): “We must refuse to follow that order. In accordance with the directives of the Elathan and Krysk governing bodies issued as of 1021.0930 Galactic, the military commands stationed on those worlds pledge their allegiance to the newly formed Senecan Federation.”
They both sighed in relief. If the rebels on Elathan and Krysk hadn’t been able to gain control of the dispatched vessels, this would’ve become a rather lopsided battle and a damn short war.
The silence had begun to grow uncomfortably long when the reply came.
Admiral Himura (EAS Fuzhou): “Very well. This ‘Senecan Federation’ and its members are seditionists in violation of the Second Earth Alliance Constitution of 2146. Any and all actions it undertakes are illegal, null and void.
“Any Earth Alliance military personnel who, whether through affirmative acts or by inaction, assist these seditionists are guilty of treason and will be held accountable. To all present military personnel: you have five minutes to respond accordingly.”
Lekkas chuckled. “Bet more than one scuffle just broke out on board those ships.”
“Any second thoughts?”
Her head shook tersely. “We’re all traitors now.”
“It’s not traitorous to want to be free.”
“Oh, God, you’re an idealist.”
He opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. Idealism wasn’t an easy outlook to maintain in his profession, but it kept him sane. “I suppose I am. It’s served me well enough so far.”
She opted not to challenge him on it, instead checking all the HUD screens for the Nth time. “We wait for Gianno, correct?”
“Correct.”
She nodded slowly, and together they stared out the viewport. It felt as if the fabric of spacetime itself had frozen, the universe holding its breath together with them as the decreed deadline drew ever closer. Every object in the galaxy was surely fixated on this point, eager to witness what transpired on the other side of the event horizon.
Thirty seconds of the five minutes remained when a new arrival emerged out of the glare of the sun, rising from beneath the demarcation line to take up a position in the center of the rebel contingent.
Like the craft he currently occupied, its hull was a muted bronze, though the sun’s reflected light painted it burnished copper. Also like the reconnaissance craft, it sported sleek curves and knifed edges.
It was, of course, far larger than the recon craft—around fifteen hundred percent larger in fact, and twice as large as the Alliance cruisers. It wasn’t a dreadnought, as hiding the construction of one of those behemoths would’ve been a doomed undertaking, but it was the next closest thing. Built from the ground up using Senecan materials, technology and weaponry, it was the flagship of what would hopefully become a significant fleet of Senecan Federation warships.
But that all depended on the outcome of this confrontation, here, today. Arguably it depended on the outcome of future confrontations as well, but those would never occur in the absence of a victory here.
Unidentified: “This is the SFS Thermopylae. On behalf of the Senecan Federation, I request all Earth Alliance vessels desist in their blockade of civilian traffic to and from Senecan space. Further, I request such vessels depart the Senecan Stellar System forthwith, as they are trespassing on Senecan Federation territory.”
Admiral Himura (EAS Fuzhou): “There is no such thing as Senecan Federation ‘territory.’ You are all deserters and turncoats, and you will be treated as such. You need to be very, very careful what you do next, or you will find yourself with a war on your hands.” The Admiral’s voice bled barely controlled incredulity and rage.
Unidentified (SFS Thermopylae): “We do not desire a war. As stated in the declaration transmitted to Prime Minister Ioannou, the leadership of the Earth Alliance Assembly and EASC Board Chairman Breveski, we intend to institute our own government, one based on legitimate self-determination and the principles of freedom the Alliance once adhered to but has now abandoned.
“We expect the Earth Alliance government to allow any colonies that wish to join the Senecan Federation to withdraw from the Alliance without incident. Our desire is to coexist peacefully alongside the Alliance, but we will not be subject to its rule any longer.”
Stefan’s hands trembled on the backrest; annoyed, he clasped one over the other in an attempt to subdue them. “Move into position.”
Her hands swept across the controls. “And by ‘position’ you mean approximately ten centimeters beneath the laser turrets of this Alliance cruiser here?”
“I do.”
“Got it. Piece of cake.” The reply was delivered through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw as they oh-so-carefully skimmed forward and rose toward the hulking shadow. Though they flew in a deliberate, cautious manner, the cruiser’s hull raced by overhead. It was a long vessel at three hundred and ten meters, and the weapons were located a third of the way down the underside.
“Careful—don’t crash into the hull!”
“I’m…not….” A distinct growl had joined the gritted teeth and clenched jaw.
The large weapon housing hung beneath the frame ahead of them. They slowed to a stop less than ten meters behind it.
“Hope they don’t decide to move before we’re done.”
Stefan’s voice came out clipped as he leaned into the HUD beside her. Would a second chair in the cockpit have been too much to ask? “Hold us steady. I’m locking onto the target.”
The HUD screen directly in front of him became a reticle. It pulsed as he painstakingly maneuvered it until the center settled on the subtly gleaming bow of the SFS Thermopylae.
“What’s so special about this weapon?”
“We stole the Alliance schem flow and amped up the power so it mimics a cruiser’s weaponry. The targeting system works a bit differently as a result.”
Admiral Himura (EAS Fuzhou): “I will say again: stand down now, relinquish all Alliance ships and materials in
your possession and present yourself for court-martial proceedings.”
Unidentified (SFS Thermopylae): “Negative.”
Stefan exhaled. Point of no return, come and gone. “Firing.”
The laser streaked out from beneath the viewport. The shot was larger and more powerful than those generated by the weaponry typically found on a recon craft. It also utilized the ytterbium-crystal pulse laser materials wielded by Alliance military weapons, so anyone looking in their direction would swear the fire had originated from the Alliance cruiser situated directly above Stefan and Lekkas.
The Thermopylae was in motion, denying the sieging warships a convenient target for the attack it had been likely to provoke. As it streaked across the line of blockaded ships, a large commercial transport emerged from beneath it headed in the opposite direction.
The laser struck the civilian vessel full-on broadside.
Lacking sufficient shielding, it ruptured into a ball of roiling white and coral as both the active impulse engine and the thankfully dormant sLume superluminal drive exploded.
The Thermopylae returned fire. Everyone returned fire, and space lit up in an infernal clamor of interweaving lasers and detonations. The cruiser above them accelerated to port, and bedlam unfurled in its wake.
Lekkas had fallen back in her chair, leaving their ship drifting and exposed. “You…you hit a civilian ship! How did you miss a bloody battlecruiser?”
Shock replaced horror as the dominant expression animating her face when she discovered Stefan’s gun pointed at her chest.
“Your psych profile indicates you respond to extreme stress with enhanced reaction speeds and sharper focus. So get us out of here in one piece, would you?”
Her mouth snapped into a thin, hard line as her pupils contracted. “Yes, sir.”
She seized the controls once more, and he re-holstered his gun. The floor pitched beneath his feet as they too accelerated, albeit away from the cruiser, and banked hard. He stumbled away from the dash and grabbed the top of her chair to prevent being thrown to the floor.
Apogee: An Aurora Rhapsody Short Story (Aurora Renegades #4.5) Page 2