by Ryk Brown
“And what if the jump sub isn’t there when we need it?”
Jessica sighed. “Okay, I admit, that would complicate things a bit.”
* * *
It had taken Robert more than an hour just to get his shuttle into the main hangar. Without working power in the facility, the process had involved running a power cable from his shuttle to the motor for the outer doors, pulling inside and closing them, and then repeating the process for the inner doors. The process itself was not difficult, just tedious.
Once inside, he was able to move his shuttle to the back corner of the hangar, close to the main power distribution panel. Once there, he was able to connect the power cable to the distribution panel and use the fusion reactor in his SAR shuttle to power the entire facility, including the motorized hangar doors and the navigation beacon outside.
Despite its size, he only had to run his reactor at five percent to power everything. It took a few hours, but the interior of the evacuation facility was finally at a comfortable temperature and the air inside had been through the cleaning filters enough times to rid the building of its annoying aroma. Of course, it was also possible that he was just getting used to the smell of desolation, but he preferred to believe the former.
Once everything was up and running, Robert had managed to choke down another round of e-rations and get a half-decent nap in, as well. His sleep had been fitful at best and when he woke, he had felt as if the ghosts of those he had failed to protect on Tanna had somehow been responsible for his restlessness.
He sat in the front office, staring out the window at the barren landscape. There had once been a thriving city just outside, full of Tannans and Terrans going about their daily lives. Hundreds of thousands of people, none of whom had ever done anything to deserve the punishment the Jung had inflicted upon them.
Robert tried to convince himself that he had done everything he could at the time; and that had been true. There had just been too little time to truly prepare a proper defense. A few more months and things might have been completely different. He might even have retired on this world…
Had it survived.
Luckily, his morose contemplations were interrupted before they became overwhelming. A screeching crack of distant thunder, followed by the sonic boom of a jump ship entering the atmosphere at greater than the local speed of sound.
“Tanna Base, Bulldog One. How do you copy?” the voice called over Robert’s comm-set.
“Bulldog One, Tanna Base,” Robert replied. “Copy you five by five. What’s your status?”
“Bulldog One is inbound, with flight of three. Wheels down in three.”
“Copy you Bulldog One. The doors will be open. Pull all the way in.”
“Roger that, Tanna Base. See you in a few.”
Robert jumped from his seat to head to the hangar and open the doors. The ghosts of Tanna would have to wait.
* * *
“Three Eight Zero to all Cobras, prepare for swarm attack.”
“Again?” Aiden complained. “I hate swarm attack.”
“It works, Aiden.”
“I didn’t say it didn’t work, Kenji. But this is the third swarm attack simulation today. Why do we need to practice pressing a button to engage auto-flight? Why the hell do they even need six bodies on board if they’re just going to have a computer flying the attacks?”
“Uh, for those times when the auto-flight AI doesn’t work,” Ken commented.
“Have you ever heard of it failing?”
“Nope.”
“Exactly,” Aiden said. “I’m telling you, we’re going to get out there and we’re going to become passengers; spectators with targets on our backs.”
“You can always fly manually, Aiden,” Kenji pointed out.
“Sure, if I want to get written up.”
“I thought getting in trouble was your primary form of entertainment,” Ken joked.
“Funny.”
“Cobra Three Eight Three, is your auto-flight active?”
“Three Eight Three, affirmative,” Aiden replied with a sigh, as he switched his auto-flight system into swarm mode and activated it. “Remember to keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times, boys and girls.”
“Come on, Aiden, it isn’t that bad.”
“Ninety percent of the time, we push buttons to fly this thing,” Aiden said. “The only time we’re allowed to hand fly is during combat, and now they are taking that away from us with this automated swarm AI crap. This is not what I signed up for, Kenji. I signed up to be a pilot, not a button pusher.”
“You are a pilot,” Kenji insisted. “Pushing buttons is what pilot’s do these days. You’d better get used to that, otherwise you’re going to be one unhappy young man.”
“I already am an unhappy young man,” Aiden insisted.
“Ten seconds to swarm attack,” Ken announced.
“Yippee,” Aiden exclaimed, poorly feigning excitement.
* * *
The Seiiki rolled quietly backwards into the main hangar at the Tanna rally point, coming to a stop just inside the hangar doors. As the doors closed, the Seiiki’s cargo ramp began to descend, coming to the ground as Robert and General Telles, who had just disembarked from Combat One moments earlier, approached.
As Robert approached, his baby sister, whom he had not seen in seven years, came down the ramp, a smile spreading across her face. A similar expression immediately came upon him, as she opened her arms in greeting.
“Bobert,” she greeted as she wrapped her arms around him.
“God, it’s good to see you,” Robert said, almost gushing. He broke their embrace and stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “Jesus, Jess, you’re solid as a rock!”
“And you’re not!” she said, pinching the fat around his midsection. “What the hell is this?”
“Too much time in space, I suppose.”
Jessica stepped aside. “Look who I brought,” she beamed as Nathan came down the ramp behind her.
Again, Robert couldn’t help but smile. “The infamous Captain Kid,” he greeted, reaching out to shake Nathan’s hand. “I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t sure I believed it when I first heard you were alive.” Robert decided a handshake wasn’t enough, hugging him, as well. “And they say Nash’s are hard to kill.”
“Good to see you again, Robert.”
“I hope you’re taking good care of my baby sister, here,” Robert added.
“More like she’s taking care of me,” Nathan admitted.
“Commander Kamenetskiy,” Robert said, noticing Vladimir coming down the ramp to join them. “Why am I not surprised that you became a rebel, as well?”
“I blame him,” Vladimir said, pointing at Nathan. “How are you doing, Robert?” he greeted, also shaking Robert’s hand.
“How is everyone?” Robert asked Jessica. “Mom, Dad, Ania, the guys?”
“Everyone is fine, Robert,” Jessica assured him. “They’re all living on the Mystic. The guys are helping to convert her. But we can talk about all that later.”
“She’s right,” General Telles said. “They must complete their mission on Earth before we can conduct our mission on Kohara.”
“Of course,” Robert agreed. “You know that we only have four days before those gunships launch, right?”
“We are aware,” General Telles assured him.
“It would be best if we took them on the eve of their launch, when they will be fueled and ready.”
“That is the plan.”
“Where’s Roselle?” Nathan asked, looking around.
“Gil is sticking to his usual schedule aboard the Benakh. He will be here when the time comes.”
“What if we have to move up the mission?” Jessica wondered.
“I have a jump comm-drone, reprogrammed to transmit a Fleet Command identifier, so that I can send him an urgent message without arousing suspicion.”
“I trust that Deliza has completed the jump sub modifications?” General Telles inquired.
“She and my crew have been working nonstop since we departed the Aurora,” Nathan assured him. “She says it’s ready. I just wish we had time to test the remote recall device.”
“If that thing doesn’t work, it’ll be a bitch of a dive to get to the sub and bring it ashore,” Jessica added.
“And the Seiiki has been reconfigured as the Mirai?” the general asked.
“Yes, she has,” Vladimir assured him.
“Very well,” General Telles said. “Let’s get your crew changed and get your ship ready for departure. The sooner you’re on your way to Earth, the better.”
* * *
Gil Roselle sat in the officer’s mess, picking at his dinner. He rarely ate in his private mess, since he hated to eat alone in an empty room. Here he sat within earshot of others, allowing him to keep abreast of what was going on with his junior officers.
Of course, he was quite sure that his officers were careful about their topics of conversation when their commanding officer was around. Nevertheless, he was able to tell which officers got along well, and which ones did not.
None of this was his concern, of course, as matters of personnel were the purview of his longtime executive officer, Commander Ellison, who, as usual, was sitting across the table from him.
“You and Shari have a fight?”
“No,” Gil replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you haven’t been your usual loud, obnoxious self the last few days…since the last time you were on Kohara.”
“Nothing like that,” Gill assured his XO.
“Then what’s got you in a mood?”
“A mood?” Gil huffed. “What am I, a teenager or something?”
“Well, something’s bugging you.”
Gil thought for a moment. He had known Martin for twenty years. They had served together on an FTL scout ship and on the Benakh. Martin had been his right-hand man the entire time. If there was ever anyone he could trust, it was Martin Ellison. But Marty was also his friend, and there was still a chance he might finally get a command of his own, especially if Gil resigned, or…
On the other hand, if the Alliance discovered that Gil had helped the Karuzari steal gunships from the Kohara plant, it would give Galiardi the excuse he needed to get rid of Martin once and for all. After all, Gil, Martin, and Robert Nash were the last of those who had served under Nathan Scott and Travon Dumar. They were the final three who were still in uniform and serving under Galiardi’s command. Even if Galiardi’s investigators were unable to come up with any hard evidence against Martin, they’d probably pass him over for command of the Benakh simply because of their close association. It wasn’t fair, but it was what it was.
“Maybe I’m just contemplating my retirement,” Gil finally said.
“What’s to contemplate?” Martin wondered. “Sailing, fishing, drinking, screwing…”
“Not necessarily in that order…”
“Of course. Sounds like the good life to me,” Martin commented.
“Yeah, it does. But you know, all that stuff is great as a break from all this. But as a full time occupation?” Gil shook his head in uncertainty. “I’ve been commanding this bucket for too long, Marty. And the scout ship before her. Being in space is what I know. It’s what I’m good at. People like you, I get along with. Civilians? Jesus, they’re just a bunch of whiny, self-indulgent, idiots.”
“I’m sure Shari appreciates that assessment.”
“You know what I mean, Marty.”
“You don’t have to retire, you know. As long as you pass your annual medical reviews, they can’t force you out. Besides, wouldn’t you love to outlast Galiardi? Stay a thorn in his side till the day he retires?”
“The thought did occur to me,” Gil admitted, a mischievous smile on his face. “But there’s a good chance we’re going to war again, Marty. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“What do you mean, how you feel about that?”
“I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about following galloping Galiardi into the fire,” Gil explained.
“How do you feel about defending Tau Ceti? Or Sol, or any of the other Alliance worlds?”
“Oh hell, Marty. I’m not talking about that. Of course I’d defend them. I’m talking about going on the offensive.”
Martin looked around the officer’s mess, ensuring that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation which, if taken out of context, might be misinterpreted, especially by an overzealous young officer looking for a way to move up the ranks. “Look, Gil, I hear what you’re saying,” Martin continued, keeping his voice low, “but what choice do we have? Like you said; this is what we do.”
Gil contemplated his reply carefully. Finally, he spoke, in an even lower volume. “But maybe we don’t have to do it for him?”
“What?”
“Maybe there is someone, or something, that is more worthy of our loyalties.”
“What are you talking about, Gil? Becoming mercenaries, or something? Who the fuck would hire a couple old farts like us?”
“You’d be surprised,” Gil said, finally taking a bite of his meal. “Really surprised.” Gil chewed his food for a moment, thinking. “You know you’re not going to get your own command, right?”
“Yeah, I figured that one out. Thanks for rubbing salt in my wounds, though.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Well, I was still hoping they might give me this bucket when you retire, but…”
“Yeah.”
“What’s this all about, Gil?” Martin asked.
Gil took another bite, casually looking around the room as he chewed. “What if I told you I could get you your own ship? Not a big one, mind you, but your own ship.”
“I’d say, ‘What’s the catch?’”
“The catch is, you’d have to give up all this,” Gil replied. “Your billet, your commission… Hell, the entire Sol sector for that matter.”
“Out of the Sol sector?” Martin was suddenly intrigued. “What, like a cargo ship, or something?”
Gil looked around again. The last few officers had finished their meal and were rising to depart. He waited for them to leave and then continued. “A warship. Again, not a big one.”
“You are talking about turning merc, aren’t you?” Martin was shocked. “Jesus, Gil. What does Shari have to say about all this?”
“I haven’t talked to her about it, yet.”
“You are planning to, right?”
“I haven’t decided,” Gil admitted.
“And you wonder why your relationships never last,” Marty commented. “Mercs get paid pretty well, right?”
“Doubtful,” Gil said. “At least not with this outfit. But at least it would be for a good cause.”
“A good cause?” Martin suddenly put it together. “Shit. You’re talking about going to the Pentaurus sector, aren’t you? Are you nuts? Gil, if the Jung have jump drives, they need us here.”
“Bullshit,” Gil argued. “Galiardi’s got hundreds of jump missiles sitting on launchers on the surface of Earth, and he’s cranking more of them out every day. Not to mention all the jump KKVs he’s got trained on Nor-Patri. Any war we fight will likely be for show, to pump up his damned resume so he can run for the position of God someday. Eventually, he’ll pull the trigger on those JKKVs and flatten Nor-Patri, Nor-Doray, Nor-Essona, and every other Nor in the Jung sector. Then he’ll look like he tried to keep it conventional for as long as possible, but the Jung didn’t give him a choice. Hell,
if he wanted, he could send a handful of JKKVs over to the Pentaurus sector and take care of the Jung there, as well. Of course, collateral damage would probably tally in the millions, but he doesn’t give a rat’s ass. We all know that.”
“Slow down, Gil,” Martin begged. “You’re starting to scare me. Is this some kind of a midlife crisis, or something?”
“Please.”
“Then what is it? You’re talking crazy.”
“I’m talking about fighting for someone worth fighting for, instead of helping Michael Galiardi climb to power.”
“For who?”
Gil shook his head. “I can’t tell you that. Not yet. All I can tell you is that I may be resigning earlier than I thought.”
“How soon?”
“A week…maybe two.” Gil sighed, wondering if he had said too much. “Listen, Marty, the only reason I’m even telling you all this is because you’re my friend, and I don’t want you to get screwed by Galiardi when I retire.”
Martin thought for a moment. “So, you really don’t think they’ll give me the Benakh, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Gil admitted. “I think they’ll put another politically connected dumbass like Stettner in command, knowing full well that you’ll resign because of it. And that will give Galiardi what he wants… To be free of all of us.”
“Except for Robert, of course.”
Gil said nothing. He didn’t have to.
“Shit, Nash is leaving too?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Christ, I need a drink,” Martin exclaimed.
Gil smiled. He was pretty sure he’d just found another pilot.
* * *
Nathan and Jessica stood in the Seiiki’s cockpit behind Josh and Loki, watching the cargo bay’s vid-cam on the view screen in the center of the console. As planned, the launch-and-recovery arm was slowly extending, sending the jump sub out the back of the open cargo bay in preparation for launch.
“Course is good…and speed, if you can call it that, is holding steady,” Josh reported.