by Kris Powers
Slowly, she came out of her thoughts and went back into the living area of her quarters. Nadine collapsed onto a burgundy sofa in the dim room. She slid her hands between her legs to warm them and then wrenched them back suddenly at the thought of an alien presence exiting from that area in nine months.
Her task force had handed off the tracking of the beam to a flotilla of science ships. Her battle group had headed for Earth to aid in the evacuation of the Coalition’s people on the Moon, but that was not her destination. She would take a shuttle bound for Earth.
The Council of Twelve required her presence.
She stared into empty space for what felt like hours in the dim light until she heard a beep. She sat up and activated the small grey earpiece attached to her lobe.
“Yes?”
“Informing you as requested, General. We are entering into lunar orbit,” a crisp male voice said.
“Thank—you,” Nadine said and thumbed the earpiece off. She dragged her feet into the bedroom and changed into a fresh uniform. Nadine took cautious steps toward the nearest lift and paused briefly before the doors parted for her.
She thought of the man that she was to mate with while the elevator took her to her destination. He was forty—eight, good looking, and charming according to the initial report she saw. The photo of him sent to her afterwards disappointed her. This Elliot Fredericks looked stuck—up, arrogant, and God knew what else. Nadine thought of other disparaging qualities her newly assigned mate was bound to have as she boarded her small, biplane—sized shuttle and guided it sluggishly out of the bay.
Earth grew larger in front of her tiny personal shuttle. The surface eventually resolved itself into the east coast of Russia.
Maria saluted the MERA guard when she stepped from her duckling ship and walked into a large and lush courtyard framed with tall hedges. A small woman rushed to greet her. The mouse of a girl with thinning blond hair had a rank of acolyte.
“The Council is not here, Veteran,” she said, saluting her superior.
“They’re not here? I don’t understand.”
“Yes, Veteran. They left instructions requesting that you go to Communications Lounge B. The Prime Counsel said she would contact you there,” she replied in a tiny voice.
“Thank—you, Attendant.”
She rushed through the entrance and down the ornate corridors. Nadine ascended mahogany steps to the second floor and hurried into a small, secluded, but comfortable chamber with a screen on one side. A brown studded leather couch occupied the other side of the narrow room. Nadine sat down and pumped her code into the pad fastened to the arm. The screen immediately sparked to life in front of her and the aged face of Catherine came into being.
“My student.”
“My Teacher,” Nadine replied.
“It is time to give you a new lesson. First, do you know where we are?”
Nadine extended her senses. They had played this fox and hound game before as part of her lessons. She could feel the Council somewhere on the planet no further out than the solar system.
“Find me.”
Nadine sensed them somewhere on a nearby continent.
It was Eastern Europe. Latvia. Riga. They were at the Coalition Headquarters.
Catherine saw the concern radiating from her pupil. “No need to worry, my student. We are in our private apartments.”
Nadine sighed in relief. Many assassination attempts had been carried out there. That was why the Council had moved their office to MERA Headquarters, citing the presence of other Aggressives to keep them safe. Their private apartments were a set of rooms known to themselves and few others. They moved about by way of a maze of secret passages within the predominately military complex.
“Teacher, what lesson would you teach me within our HQ?” Nadine asked.
“Your stumbling block is here. We are here to remove him.”
“General Nadir?” Nadine asked, remembering the name of the head of diplomatic relations.
“Yes.”
“Forgive me, my teacher, but I don’t understand. Why do you need me for this?”
“We are going to teach you something new,” Catherine replied.
Nadine’s curiosity was piqued. “What do you have to teach me?”
“You require a lesson in manipulation, specifically body manipulation,” Catherine replied.
“Yes, my teacher.”
“Keep your focus: follow me. I will have my attention on our subject. I can not focus you in this action. If you wander, I can’t bring you back into it.”
“I understand,” Nadine replied.
“Good. I will end transmission. Be as a bird on my shoulder.”
Nadine’s consciousness followed Catherine’s. She saw the old, black cloaked woman wind her way through ancient corridors hidden within the Headquarters of the Coalition.
General Harcourt Nadir was an incredibly meticulous person. That attention to detail had provided him the way into his superior’s heart. Though a little pretentious, he did make an excellent diplomat. He sat now, straightening his curly ginger hair, which never obeyed the correction.
His office was a large, well lit, and airy affair. It had a nearly tropical flavour out of place for the country it was situated in. Harcourt, or “Law” as he was informally known, knew he was on the list. It was the only list that mattered in the Coalition. He was finally on his way to becoming part of an inner group of senior officers that made the real decisions. Law reclined in his chair and closed his eyes with a satisfied smile on his face. As he relaxed, a small recess parted silently in the adjacent room he had converted into a private bar and lounge.
A silver haired hag exited from the recess and took small steps into the interior office.
Law opened his eyes to a withered, old witch staring at him.
“What?”
Nadine, in her alcove at MERA, gasped at the look of terror on his face. Law stared at this knot of an old woman who regarded him with a horrifying grin.
Before he could say anything more, he began to feel a tightening in his chest. He gasped and began to hyperventilate. Law could feel something in his chest contracting in excruciating pain.
Law tried to scream, but found that he couldn’t; something was stopping him. He convulsed in his seat, a contorted look of agony was on his face.
Nadine began to cry in pain. A first tear started from her left, nearly white, eye and streamed soon after.
“Goodbye, Law,” Catherine said, emphasizing his nickname. Harcourt felt an excruciating squish as his left ventricle was crushed. His vision faded to black and his body slumped in his chair.
Nadine passed out.
“Now you know,” she heard an old voice say as her consciousness faded.
Maria couldn’t remember the last time she was this irritated. A throbbing headache stretched from her temples to the back of her head. She kept trying to massage it out but the damn thing was persistent. She opened her eyes to the sight of her office aboard the First Space Station.
The last nineteen hours had featured press appearance after appearance after appearance. Even with a good night’s sleep, she still found the need for another cup of coffee.
Her duties for the press were finally completed. Any relevant information was being broadcast by the INN now. The pretty little International News anchor could lob the manure to keep the public happy. Maria was about to get up from her seat for another cup of creamy coffee when her earpiece beeped and startled her from her reverie.
“Ma’am?” a male voice asked.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” she responded, massaging her left temple.
“Ma’am, Admiral Nelson is here to see you.”
“Nelson? Send him in.”
Fleet Admiral Nelson came through the doors of her office with a broad grin on his face until he saw her fatigue. His smile was wrenched into a frown as he became concerned with her appearance. He waved her salute away.
“I know this had been hard on you. Me
dia relations have never been your strong suit,” Nelson said as he took a seat.
“You hit the nail on the head, Admiral,” she said, sitting down with her latest cup of coffee. She’d be wired in an hour but at this point, who cared?
“You know that Horizon has been shelved now that the evacuation is underway. I’m afraid we don’t have much for you to do.”
“I won’t complain, Ronnie,” Maria said.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t, but I do have something available for you.”
“Oh really?” Maria asked, half—heartedly.
“Admiral Riddick is retiring this month and the Second Battle Group needs a new commander. It’s yours if you want it.”
“Command of a battle group?” Maria’s ears perked up and the headache began to vanish.
“Choose any flagship you want.”
“You know, I served on the Excalibur when I was a Lieutenant—Commander,” Maria said and leaned back in her seat. “I remember that ship as being the best.”
“She is a little older now. The cruiser Delphi is the latest off the line.”
“It’s my command. I choose the ship I want.”
“That it is. What do you say?”
“When do I start?”
“Right away. I relieved Admiral Riddick an hour ago.”
“Thank—you, Sir,” Maria said.
“I’ll check in on you later and see how you’re holding up.”
Maria stood as did he and waited for him to leave the room. She then grabbed a briefcase and began to pack.
Lathiel stood on the bridge of his ship absent a captain’s chair. Ferine had always believed in a decentralized command for their organizational structure. If Lathiel needed to sit down, there was a couch available on either side of the round bridge. The command center’s walls glowed with a sea blue that was nearly organic in its texture. The front of the center was comprised of one large screen with an image of a tiny dying star at its center.
“That’s the wormhole?” Lathiel inquired, turning his cat—like eyes to his cousin at a nearby station. Each of its panels looked like the surface of a cloud of intersecting amber bubbles.
One of those surfaces changed to an image of incomprehensible data. Ranik looked back at Lathiel once he finished examining it.
“Definitely. In the last twenty—two hours it has collapsed to that size.”
“Could we send a probe through?” Lathiel asked.
Ranik checked through the advanced sensor data. “We can do it.”
“Then launch the probe.”
Ranik turned back to Lathiel again. He knew he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear by the lowered eyebrow above Ranik’s slit yellow eyes.
“Lathiel, I’m worried about what’s on the other side of that.” He motioned with his head to the glimmer of light on the view screen.
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever thought of what or who might be out there?” Ranik asked.
“A fin probe is small enough to be equipped with stealth.”
Ranik’s eyes worked at the possibility.
“Yes, yes! But we’re assuming whoever may be out there is not advanced enough to detect it.”
“It’s worth the risk to find out what damage our weapon might have done. Let’s get started.”
“I can’t see this happening in time,” Madison said.
“Why not?” Joshua demanded.
“In three months? The engineering branch said three months Josh.”
The large table Madison and Joshua were bent over was a bright island in a dim shadow of a room.
Elliot half listened to the exchange while he watched the news on INN. With only a day to go, ten million people were still left in the red zone of the United States.
“We don’t have six months to finish the particle warhead. The project has to start in a month,” Madison said.
“Madi, I have talked to the Engineering Division three times. Two months is the absolute minimum to build a facility of that size.”
“Maybe not,” Elliot said. He switched off the monitor and sat up on the leather couch.
“What?” Madison asked.
“How big would an installation need to be in order to house and defend the particle warhead?”
“Massive,” Madison replied. She handed a detailed link to Elliot.
“We’ve got something that big in storage,” Elliot said to their bewildered expressions. “Earth and every colony have base components available in case the need should arise. It’s not common knowledge but they are there.”
“Where would they store it? It would be way too big to store anywhere on Earth, even in pieces,” Madison asked.
“Well, you’re right,” he said to their satisfied smiles. “It’s stored in orbit, in the shipyards to be exact. We could have it up in about a month, maybe less.”
“That solves one problem. On to the next one,” Joshua replied.
“Okay, if the plan is to leave the Colonized Sphere, where do we put all those people? Naval Analysis has told us that there is no way to take more than a few thousand civilians with us onboard our battleships,” Madison said.
“What about the other nine hundred ships? They won’t have any weapons, but aren’t they still capable of high FTL speeds?” Elliot asked.
“Would they do?” Madison asked Joshua.
“We were going to take a wrecking ball to them. Let me see.” Joshua examined the pile of links on the table in front of him. Eventually he found the required link and looked up with a triumphant smile on his face. “It could work. The other nine hundred ships could serve as civilian transports: they have the speed we want.”
“How many can they carry?” Elliot inquired.
“I’ll send a request to the Science Council. I’m betting that it’ll be a good number. Each of those ships is almost two miles long.”
“What else do we need?” Madison asked and looked at Elliot.
“A destination.”
“What has the brass recommended?” Madison asked.
“Not much more than pick a star and go.”
“Can we get a little more specific?” Joshua inquired.
“Let’s take a look at the star charts and see what’s out there,” she replied.
They both bent to their tasks. Elliot relaxed back onto his couch in the dark and turned the INN back on.
Lathiel impatiently waited for some word of the probe they had dispatched hours ago. He found it difficult to keep his mind from wandering as time passed. Lathiel fiddled a while with his index fingers imbedded with thick nails, before giving in to his thoughts.
The remaining Ferine colonies needed every last ship to defend their home world. Of all the other conquered species in the Old League, only a few of their warships wandered here and there looking for allies to retake their home worlds. None had bothered to look for help within the Ferine’s borders. Perhaps now, after their unlikely attack, they might come.
He heard a beep from his cousin’s console. Lathiel jumped up from his couch.
“The probe’s arrived. It’s transmitting data,” Ranik reported.
“I was starting to worry something had happened.”
“I was beginning to think the other end of the wormhole had collapsed.”
“So, what is it reporting?”
“The exit from the wormhole is nearly ten thousand light years away.”
“That far? How could that have happened?”
“A wormhole can go as far as it wants to. I’d say we were lucky it didn't end on the other side of the galaxy,” Ranik said.
“We’re lucky if it didn’t hit anything.”
“You're right there,” Ranik said. He lifted a slightly wrinkled index finger to his lips as he perused the data. “There is one star system nearby. The beam exited the other end approximately forty hours ago. The system is inhabited.”
“Can they detect the probe?”
Ranik bent back to his amber instru
ments for a moment. “No, they haven’t detected the probe. It’s difficult to categorize their level of technology. They're more advanced than us is some ways, less in others.”
“Could you be a little more specific?”
“They appear to be very aggressive,” Ranik replied.
“Great. We’ve found the perfect people to antagonize. Where is the weapon?”
“It’s approaching the star system.”
“What?”
Ranik regarded his distant cousin in dismay. “It’s headed directly in there.”
“Will it pass through unobstructed?”
“No.”
“Where is it going?” Lathiel inquired.
“It will hit the satellite orbiting the third planet.”
“Will it destroy it?”
“Yes.”
“Is the moon inhabited?”
“Not anymore, but there are structures there.”
“Then maybe we can salvage something from this mess.”
“Not necessarily,” Ranik said, sheepishly.
“What is it, cousin?”
“The probe’s data indicates a high probability that it will also strike the planet,” Ranik replied.
“God Above, another war.”
“You know what we have to do now.”
“Do you think that they’ll understand why we did this?” Lathiel asked.
“In every civilization there's always someone who is willing to listen.”
“I hope that it’s someone important.”
Ranik snorted. “Maybe. Come on Lathiel, we did this before the war. Let’s set a course for the stars. For old time’s sake?”
“It’s a three and a half day trip.”
“Do you have any cards?” Ranik asked.
“I think I have a deck somewhere. It is a little dusty.”
“We can start the bet at two Sterling,” Ranik said.
“A little high to start.”
“Are you in or out?” Ranik asked.
“I’m in,” Lathiel replied and addressed the navigational officer.
“Would you be up for a trip, Bisby?”
The great, striped Ferine towered over his console at the center of the bridge. “Coordinates?”