by Kal Spriggs
Lizmadie already had her pistol out and aimed at the door. They were in the study, which had only the one set of windows and the door deeper into the house. “They cut our outside line,” Lizmadie said.
Doko bit his lip. He had been under fire before, but now it felt different, with his wife's life on the line. He gave her a nod and moved up to the door. “We need to get to the safe room.” That had been the reason they selected this house, even more so than the view, the neighborhood, or even the décor. The house had a windowless room, brick, clearly designed to be a shelter of some kind. Some work had turned it into a hidden safe room... along with a hard-line data connection so they could call for help. Liz has been kidnapped before, Doko thought, we thought it was a good investment then and this proves us right. The problem with being married to royalty was that occasionally someone realized that they might get rich, famous, or political favors by kidnapping them.
Doko slid the door open and popped his head out at waist level. “Clear.”
They had rehearsed movement to the safe room. Tony had his pistol aimed down the hall to the front door while his wife slipped out behind him and moved down the kitchen door. She popped it open, “Clear,” she said.
Doko started to back down the hallway in a crouch. He paused though, as he heard a creak of floorboards in the living room to his right. His pistol trained on the door just as a man in black clothing came through the doorway.
Doko fired twice at his center of mass. The man let out a shout, but he didn't fall. Crap, Tony thought, he's wearing body armor. For a moment, Tony froze, unsure whether he had just fired on a potential rescuer or an enemy.
The man brought his own pistol up and Tony saw the attached suppressor just as the barrel leveled on him. Well, that settles the friend or foe question, he thought absently.
Lizmadie fired from behind him, her shot loud in the confined hall. The man fell to the floor, completely limp, a round, gory hole where his left eye had been. Blood and brains had splattered the landscape painting near the door. “I swear, sometimes your military training is worse than useless,” Lizmadie growled as Tony hurried back down the hall. In the living room he heard shouts and the sound of boots.
They slipped into the kitchen just as muffled shots erupted in the hallway.
Tony covered the door while Lizmadie unhooked the latch and then pulled the refrigerator away from the wall. She swiped her hand over the biometric lock and then tugged the reinforced and armored door to the side. Tony followed her and pulled the refrigerator back into place just as he heard someone kick open the door. He heard the slight click as it locked back into place and then Lizmadie slid the door closed. It clicked shut with the slightest sound and Tony sagged back against the wall. “Thanks, love, I thought I was dead.”
“You were, good thing I always aim for the head,” Lizmadie said. She was already on the console in the corner and she made a terse verbal report even as Tony climbed to his feet and began to pull heavier weapons out of the storage locker near the door. He covered the door, even while he passed Lizmadie her body armor and waited while she briefed the operator. After she finished, he passed her her carbine. Only then did he strap on his own body armor.
“Well,” Tony said. “I think we're going to need to do some remodeling.”
***
UCS Nova Rosnik
Shadow Space
September 26, 2403
Ensign Forrest Perkins grimaced as his console pinged to let him know that he was invited to the Captain's dining event for the evening. That meant he would come off shift and have just under two hours to ensure his uniform was spotless. For that matter, the Baron was aboard ship, and Forrest would bet that the leader of the United Colonies would be there. Forest still wasn't certain how he felt about that.
On the one hand, the Baron was from Nova Roma. He had admitted to serving in the Nova Roma raid on Saragossa. That same raid had gutted the infrastructure of Forrest's homeworld. Forrest had lost his wife and child in the chaos of the aftermath. Part of Forrest wanted to hate him. For that matter, he did have a passionate hatred towards Nova Roma in general as well as the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet who were the United Colonies' notional allies.
Yet... Baron Lucius Giovanni had done much to make amends and to show that he wasn't the self-absorbed, arrogant Nova Roma nobleman of stereotype. He had saved the Faraday colony from the Chxor. He had defeated the Balor. He had saved hundreds of thousands of men and women from the raid on Melcer. Worse, in a way, was his humility and how down to earth he was. He was the military commander of a massive fleet and the political leader of an entire world, yet from what Forrest had heard, he lived in the same apartment building as most of his senior officers. He took the time to meet with individual officers to hear their concerns. He was, of all things, a nice person, which had completely thrown Forrest upon their first encounter. Well, Forrest corrected himself, it threw me when I finally sobered up to realize it.
He and Boris had both drank themselves into a stupor after the Chxor Dreadnought literally shot their mining craft to pieces. It was in the middle of an escape attempt which had somehow turned into a death ride to prevent the Chxor from destroying the prison station and the several hundred thousand slave laborers kept there. So really, when they somehow survived the hit, they hadn't had much else to do besides watch out the view-ports and drink. Boris's rotgut moonshine was potent stuff. Forrest smiled a bit at the memory.
His smile faded as he thought about what had happened afterward. Who would believe that bastard was former military, Forrest thought. He'd left the Centauri Confederation Fleet as a Senior Captain, so when Boris had signed up with the United Colonies they bumped him a few ranks to Commander due to his prior service. Since Boris Kaminsky was basically the only friend or family that Forrest had... well, it hadn't taken much to talk him around to following in his footsteps.
But Boris went to a different ship and Forrest was here aboard the Nova Rosnik with Lieutenant Commander Harper. It wasn't just that the ship's Captain didn't like him... it was the entire culture that seemed off to Forrest. Everyone seemed to have a certain way they did things, almost with no variation. He understood the need for uniformity... but it was almost as if none of the new crew could ever perform a task to their exacting standards.
As a case in point, Forrest's job was to cover down on the navigational officer and run updates on their projected course. Yet when he had noticed some slight inefficiencies and marked them, along with his own corrections, the executive officer had reprimanded him and told him to just confirm their course projections. Forrest had been angry enough that he went to the Captain over that... but Lieutenant Commander Harper's response had been even less forgiving. It wasn't like I uploaded a different course, Forrest thought bitterly, I just logged a more optimal course, one that could have shaved six or more hours off our travel time.
The caution they used in their shadow space calculations surprised him, particularly since the Nova Rosnik was one of the ships that had jumped to shadow in the Third Battle of Faraday to mousetrap the Balor fleet. If anything, Forrest would expect people like that to be willing to chart an aggressive course through shadow space. It wasn't like the navigational computer could spit out anything with even a modicum of risk, he knew.
“Ensign Perkins,” Navigation Tech Haines spoke up, “I'm getting that odd sensor effect again. Could you take a look at it?”
Forrest restrained a groan. Haines was a new-behind-the-ear technician. Everything was new and marvelous to him... but that was a pain to one certain ensign that just wanted to keep his head down for the next few days. “Yes, Haines, I'll look at it.” Really, it was the role of the sensors department to evaluate any contact, but Haines was the type to love digging. For that matter... Forrest shot a glance over at where Lieutenant Chungpoole sat. She was closely related to Captain Chungpoole, the commander of one of the Crusader-class behemoth ships. Whatever his qualifications for command, rumor had it that he was a vindictive b
astard where his family was concerned. Even for Captain Harper, she could do no wrong. Which basically meant she didn't do much... if anything at all.
Forrest pulled up the sensor data. He restrained another sigh as he stared at the anomaly. He could see that the sensor tech who'd sent it over to Haines had noticed the anomaly initially. It looked like a ship just on the edge of their sensors, which was basically impossible for shadow space, because unless ships jumped at the same time with the same course, they would almost never encounter one another. For that matter, even when two ships used identical coordinates, course, and departed even minutes apart, they might easily arrive hours apart and never be able to sense one another in the weird electromagnetic environment of shadow. Only when ships jumped in unison with parallel coordinates were they close enough together that they had the same course.
The sensor ghost had been present for too long for it to be another ship that had a similar course. Occasionally a really skilled sensor tech could pick up other ships as they passed in shadow space, but that was rare and it lasted only seconds or maybe minutes. This contact had been steady for the past four hours. Really, the sensor tech who'd passed it on should have sent it to his petty officer first. The petty officer could recalibrate the sensor and that should have corrected the anomaly, Forrest knew.
His eyebrows went up though, when he saw the message traffic and it's chain. The petty officer had recalibrated the sensors... twice. Then he'd gone to the department head, Lieutenant Chungpoole, who had rejected his request that it be upgraded to a sensor contact, which would have required that she bring it up to the Executive Officer. He in turn, would make the call whether to notify the Captain or even to go to battle stations.
The message traffic included a direct order after the petty officer brought it back to Lieutenant Chungpoole the second time. She had told Petty Officer Bussinik not to waste her time or his anymore and expressly forbid him doing anything else with it. He, in turn, had told the tech that he wasn't allowed to look into anymore, but the navigation section might be interested.
Forrest looked over at where Petty Officer Bussinik sat. The Petty Officer met his gaze and gave him a nod. He thinks it's important enough to bring up, Forrest thought, and he's right. Something was up... and Forrest Perkins wasn't going to set on it, not when so many things pointed to something very out of the ordinary. Forrest looked over at the Executive Officer, “Sir, I think you need to take a look at this.”
***
“So,” Lucius said as he studied the faint contact. “Why exactly did it take almost six hours for us to notice this?” Lieutenant Commander Harper had taken a further hour or more to notify Lucius... which irritated him. This mysterious contact had been inside weapons range for the past seven hours, they had no notice of whether it was friend or foe, and they still hadn't gone to battle stations.
Lieutenant Commander Harper flushed and when he spoke, his voice was defensive. “Sir, we wanted to make certain that there was actually something there first.”
“We?” Lucius asked. “From what I understand, your sensor tech has seven hours of data... and you told me you were notified an hour ago. Six hours isn't time spent verifying it as a contact, you could do that in six minutes... or less.” Lucius didn't hide his edge of irritation. “Who noticed this initially?”
Harper cleared his throat. “Uh, Sensor Tech Brendai.”
Lucius nodded and thought a moment until he remembered the name of the head of the sensors and communications department aboard the destroyer, “And when did Lieutenant Chungpoole bring this up to you?”
Harper didn't answer for a moment. When he finally spoke, his face was wooden and he clearly chose each word with care, “Ensign Perkins, of the navigation department notified the Executive Officer approximately four hours after Sensor Tech Brendai picked up the contact.”
Lucius stared at the destroyer's Captain for a long moment, “Why, exactly, did your navigation officer...”
“Assistant Navigational Officer,” Lieutenant Commander Harper interrupted.
“You have an experienced officer acting as the assistant navigational officer?” Lucius asked. It seemed like the more he heard the worse the situation looked. “No, don't answer that, let's go back to why Sensor Tech Brendai sent this to the navigation department four hours afterward. Did he send it to his petty officer? When was Lieutenant Chungpoole notified?”
“Sir,” Lieutenant Commander Harper said, his voice flat, “With all due respect, I will manage this matter, it is my vessel and I know the delicate issues involved.”
Lucius sat back and his eyes narrowed. “Delicate issues? You have an unknown vessel, possibly with a psychic pilot, that has matched your course in shadow space. You've had a serious breakdown in the chain of command. These aren't delicate issues, these are command issues... ones you need to deal with.” Lucius wasn't certain if the captain fully realized the implications of a ship able to match their course in shadow space. Lucius knew that psychic navigators could utilize more dimensions in shadow space. He also knew that rumors said the Shadow Lords pirated ships in shadow space. That implied that they had the ability to match a vessel's course in shadow space.
“I will, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Harper said, his voice barely civil. “But, as yet, this anomaly is still not confirmed as a ship. I feel, since there has been no activity, it is most likely due to exterior damage to the sensors, rather than an actual ship.”
Lucius chose to ignore the other man's tone. “If you're wrong,” Lucius said, “Then most likely it is a ship working for or with one of the Shadow Lords. In which case, should they decide to fire on us, board us, or do anything, really, we're helpless.” The sensor technician had not been able to further refine the data on the contact. But if it was a Shadow Lord's vessel, then they probably had the experience and tools to maintain a better sensors read than the Nova Rosnik could.
The Nova Rosnik didn't mount an ansible. The destroyer was too small to mount the older style ansible system favored by Amalgamated Worlds. They had yet to refit them with the newer versions commonly used by Nova Roma and the Centauri Confederation. We can't fight them, Lucius thought darkly, we can't call for help, and we can't even really defend ourselves.
“Sir, in that unlikely case,” Lieutenant Commander Harper said, “I have full confidence in my vessel and crew to handle the situation.” The Nova Rosnik's Captain stood, “Now, sir, if that is all?”
Lucius bit his tongue on a sharp response. “You're dismissed,” Lucius said, finally. Clearly the officer's priority was elsewhere from the immediate safety and security of his vessel. Lucius first, gut reaction was to immediately relieve him and replace him with someone whose priority was in the right area... except he didn't know how deep the rot went.
Something else gave Lieutenant Commander Harper the confidence to all but spit in Lucius's face. Something else was wrong here, something that had the foul stink of politics.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
September 28, 2403
Princess Lizmadie Doko stood up as the door chimed. She looked over at Tony with a raised eyebrow, but he shrugged. Alicia Nix had attached a team of her agents to protect their house after the attack. Alanis hadn't come by in over a week, though she had commed to say that something had come up. They weren't really expecting anyone, and Tony's isolation had come to feel almost like a different kind of prison. Finally she answered it, “Yes?”
“Ma'am, there's a... Nova Roma gentleman with his escort to see you,” Anderson said. He was the team commander, if Lizmadie remembered correctly.
“Liz, it's me,” she heard her brother's voice and her eyes went wide. She had not expected to hear him, not since his last angry diatribe right before she and Tony had eloped.
“You can send them in,” Lizmadie said. She suddenly felt distant, she had been through enough in the past two days that she didn't really want to fight. Still, best to get it over with, she supposed
. As she heard the front door open and a mutter of conversation outside she steeled herself for the coming confrontation. It wouldn't be easy, she knew. She could already foresee his arguments. She had estranged herself, she had disgraced herself with this unauthorized marriage. The hurtful comments were all the worse for the fact that she had thought her younger brother was different from her father and older brother. He, at least, had seen her independence and strong will as being of value... and he had been the one to come find her before she even knew they were related.
Tony came up to put a reassuring arm around her. “We'll face him together,” he said softly. Emperor Romulus IV swept into the room. She straightened, ready for his explosion.
“Thank God you're both alright,” he said. The Nova Roma Emperor rushed over to embrace them both. Lizmadie started to stiffen in response, but instead she found her arms hugging him back.
The young Emperor released them and took a step back. Lizmadie was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “I just heard the news last night. They're keeping the whole thing very quiet... I couldn't even find out if you both were still alive until this morning.”
“We're alive,” Lizmadie said with a crooked smile, “as you can see.”
He nodded, “And I'm grateful. Very grateful.” He looked at Tony and Lizmadie saw the young man straighten. “I... owe you an apology, Captain Doko. I've known about you and Lizmadie's feelings for one another. I also knew my father's opinion on the matter, such as it was, and I didn't want to disgrace his memory. I shouldn't have rejected your offer, like I did. It was rude and I should have known what effect it would have on my sister. Can you forgive me my arrogance and pigheadedness?”
Tony shrugged and Lizmadie could see his discomfort. He hadn't expected an apology. “Your Highness, I...” He also, Lizmadie knew, felt too much respect for the Nova Roma Imperial Family to feel comfortable with such an abject apology. “Could we just forget about all that?”