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Sidespace

Page 9

by G. S. Jennsen


  But all the efforts in the galaxy could not salvage his job, and had come dangerously close to threatening hers. She’d steadfastly denied knowledge of Will Sutton’s ‘allegiance,’ and her colleagues had appeared to accept her denials, though perhaps only to avoid being forced to argue with her any further. She wasn’t ashamed—but any admission of knowledge on her part would’ve demolished her credibility in an instant, and with it her ability to help Richard.

  “I don’t…did you say you wanted me to go to Seneca?”

  She gave him a compassionate smile as the appetizers did at last arrive. It was a late lunch, but he was still visibly hung over, something for which she was sympathetic.

  “I did. It’s like this. I was in London yesterday being grilled by the Military Oversight Committee for six solid hours. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but among other things, I came away with the distinct impression that the Committee, and likely other factions in the Assembly, are not content to let the unbridled peace with Seneca continue.

  “They’ve become complacent with the political situation and are ready and willing to squander the opportunity this peace provides. They’re girding up for a new fight—for no reason other than conflict increases their authority. Given that reality, if our official relations with Seneca deteriorate I could use someone on the ground there. I could use an inside channel into their seat of power.”

  He regarded her with the frankness of painful sobriety. “You have an inside channel into their seat of power—you have Field Marshal Gianno’s personal comm address. You want a spy.”

  “I want to make the best of both my and your situations. I fear….” she paused as he grimaced and took a wary sip of water. “Richard, for goodness’ sake, get your eVi to run a cleansing routine so you can feel better.”

  “I did.”

  “Oh….” How much had he drunk last night? But it wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected him to take the disciplinary action about as well as a hard uppercut to the chin. “As I was saying, I fear there’s a possibility I will lose effective if not official control in the coming months, and if this happens I need every avenue open to me. Yes, I can talk to Eleni—” she ignored Richard’s raised eyebrow “—but she is beholden to her government as much as I am to mine, and there may come a point where she can no longer be completely truthful with me.

  “In all honesty, that point may have already come. I need someone on the scene, yes, on the inside, who can tell me what the Senecans are thinking so I can avert another goddamn war if necessary.”

  It wasn’t like her to curse, but the last year had changed everything. David would be laughing at her, if in delight…

  …she only realized she was drifting off when Richard started laughing himself. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. I was—”

  “—thinking of David. I know. He’d be cackling uproariously at you cursing so.”

  She allowed herself to be wistful for the briefest interval. “Yes, he would be. But he isn’t here, is he? So it’s left to us—to you and I, honestly—to keep this ship afloat, despite all its attempts to sink itself. Richard, I tried to get you your job back, I really did, because you don’t deserve this. The bitter irony is you and Will saved everyone, or at the very least put us in a position where we were able to bumble through and save ourselves, but the bureaucrats are too power-hungry to ever recognize the gift they were handed. So we must…soldier on, and save them from themselves.”

  Richard shook his head as he dove into the carbohydrates provided by the baked potato skins. “Do you genuinely think we might end up in another war with the Federation? Even saying it aloud sounds ridiculous.”

  “Because it is ridiculous—but I’ve learned the hard way, that is an obstacle which can be overcome.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me?”

  “Not very much, actually.”

  His fork clattered onto the plate. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re friends with Director Delavasi. As different as the two of you are, you naturally hit it off—don’t try to deny it. And however much Will may have constructed a life here, Seneca is his home. And you want to be with him.”

  “When did you get so damn insightful?”

  She chuckled lightly. “Alex—accepting her, making an effort to understand her—made me realize I could benefit from stepping outside my own head once in a while.”

  He had retrieved his fork, but now his hand paused midair. “You think she’s all right?”

  “Yes. Somehow she always is, isn’t she?”

  “All the more so with Caleb there beside her. He’d give his life for her, you know.”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t have to. I never want her to suffer through that kind of loss.” The kind of loss I suffered went unsaid as self-evident. “So you’ll do it, then?”

  His eyes closed as his chin dropped. Eventually, he nodded.

  10

  SPACE, NORTHEAST QUADRANT

  STELLAR SYSTEM XX-53

  * * *

  THE BUOY SHOT OUT OF the projectile chamber beneath the lower hull of the ship. At less than a meter in length it quickly disappeared from visual sight. The radar tracked it as it adopted its programmed position at thirty-two megameters altitude and in line with eight of its brethren now in high orbit above planet XX-53b, or as it had been provisionally named, Itero.

  The Evanec displayed when the beacon the buoy carried began transmitting its message to all comers:

  Source: 2nd Planetary Body of Stellar System XX-53

  Jurisdiction: Earth Alliance

  Notice: Stage One Colonization Preparation In Process. Access Restricted to Authorized Personnel Only. Direct Any Inquiries to the Administration Office of the Earth Alliance Extra-Solar Development Ministry.

  Itero was a small garden world, a little low on gravity but otherwise perfect for habitation—arguably the best candidate discovered in the last ten years.

  Captain Jara checked the buoy off his list. “Operational status confirmed. Proceed ten megameters ahead for placement of the next buoy.”

  “Yes, sir.” The helmsman accelerated along the curve of the planet, and Jara settled back to wait.

  This was the easy part of establishing a new colony; until the colonists showed up, all the processes were rote and routine. Every step of every phase had been formalized and documented with the safety of all involved the paramount consideration.

  New worlds, even those most compatible with human life, were dangerous at first for myriad reasons, plus the unknown factors unique to each system. This one had passed the preliminary surveys with flying colors, but there were still a number of hurdles—

  “Captain, I’m picking up two approaching craft, dead ahead on our trajectory.”

  Jara frowned. “Do we have a visual yet?”

  “No, sir.” They both squinted as Itero’s sun crested the planet’s profile. “Sensors have them at a 34.2 megameter altitude on a counter-orbital path.”

  A mirrored traversal to their own—it would bring them into direct contact soon enough. “Increase power to defensive shields and attempt to hail them.”

  “They’re hailing us, sir.”

  “This is Senecan Federation Civil Development Team SFC-D81. Identify yourselves.”

  He took control of the Evanec. “Earth Alliance NE Command Engineering Regiment, Captain Jara speaking. This planet is under Earth Alliance jurisdiction and undergoing Stage One Colonization Preparation. State your purpose.”

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Captain. This planet has been designated a protectorate of the Senecan Federation.”

  The pilot called up a new HUD screen. “Sir, I am picking up a signal from a beacon six megameters distant, beyond the vessels. It’s transmitting a Federation jurisdiction notice.”

  “Well, shit.” He didn’t relish kicking off a diplomatic incident, but he did have his orders.

  “Negative, SFC-D81. Extra-Solar Development instituted jurisdiction ten days ago, and we�
��ve got nine buoys behind us to prove it. Take it up with your superiors, but I must instruct you to depart the system.”

  The reply was several seconds in coming. “I don’t know what some file back on Earth says, but this planet is Senecan Federation property. Cease further placement of buoys and deactivate those previously placed.”

  He wasn’t going to be bullied by a hot-headed Senecan civie, diplomatic incident or no. “Move into range of their closest buoy and destroy it. Tell our wingman to hang back and keep a bead on these guys.”

  A second ship accompanied them on the mission. In the absence of problems it conducted scientific surveys and collected additional data on the planet to be passed on to the analysts at Extra-Solar Development. If problems did arise, it was able to serve as a rescue craft or provide additional firepower. Neither vessel was heavily armed, but together they could inflict substantial damage.

  The pilot straightened up in the seat. “Yes, sir.”

  They neared the Federation vessels, both of which had halted their approach to hover at fixed positions. When they drew close, the Evanec burst to life once more.

  “Do not advance any closer. I repeat, this planet is Federation property and—”

  “Firing.” A tiny blip on the radar indicated the annihilation of the buoy.

  “Cease any further unlawful destruction of Federation property or you will be reported for a violation of the 2322 Crux Peace Accord.”

  Jara’s jaw clenched. He didn’t need to wait for a report and investigation. “Any interference in Alliance business in this system will be immediately deemed a violation of the Peace Accord. Disable your remaining buoys or we will do it for you.”

  The lead Federation vessel accelerated to adopt an intercept course. Were they seriously going to attempt to block his path? “SFC-D81, disengage and remove yourselves from the system, or your actions will be considered aggressive.”

  “Your actions have made you the aggressor here, Captain Jara. We are defending Federation property from further attack.”

  His arms tensed against his chest. So much for rote and routine. “Arc above them and get their next buoy targeted. We need—”

  Laser fire shot out from the Federation vessel, missing their hull by less than fifty meters.

  “Consider that your final warning. If you interfere any—”

  “Final warning my ass. Shoot these fuckers.”

  MESSIUM STELLAR SYSTEM

  EARTH ALLIANCE ORBITAL STATION MESSIS I

  “Admiral Rychen, sir?”

  Christopher Rychen gestured a final note onto the virtual map he’d superimposed upon a segment of the viewport that stretched the length of the command center. It provided an excellent backdrop and occasionally an excellent workspace.

  The Messis I Station had been erected in orbit above Messium to serve as a hub and jumping-off point for the reconstruction of the entirety of settled space to the east of it. On the surface below they continued to be occupied with the reconstruction of Messium itself, and it had proved to be a better idea to remove off-world efforts literally off world.

  Outside of the large command center and its attached meeting and work rooms—and spartan living quarters two decks below—most of the remainder of the station consisted of ship docks and loading/unloading platforms. Floating storage containers radiated out from the primary structure in daisy chains; nearly a quarter of the containers were in motion, being hauled to and from ships occupying the docks to capacity.

  While most of the reconstruction itself was a civilian affair, the security and no small level of oversight fell to the military, as it so often did. Theft, looting, vandalism and assaults had all skyrocketed on the damaged colonies—the ones where any people remained alive in the aftermath of the Metigen assault.

  Even given an almost immeasurable level of destruction, in his mind recovery was taking too long. Still, there were at last signs of a return to normalcy.

  The smallest, most devastated colonies were abandoned, but Karelia, Henan, Xanadu and, obviously, Messium had now been nearly restored to pre-Metigen War conditions. Sagitta, Peloponnia and New Maya, though very much works-in-progress, were once again viable and supported slowly growing populations. The Alliance had also provided considerable assistance to the independent colonies of Sagan, Requi and Pyxis in their rebuilding efforts.

  The reconstruction was a colossal undertaking, but also a chance to start fresh. To do it better this time. And he thought they had, in places and in fits and starts. The map still had a lot of red on it, but less today than yesterday.

  Rychen set aside the musings—grateful peacetime now allowed him the chance to have musings—and turned to the soldier standing at attention behind him. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

  “Sir, there’s been an altercation between one of our survey teams and Federation personnel at XX-53b.”

  “A violent altercation?”

  “Yes, sir. One of our vessels was destroyed and the other damaged. The team is requesting aid. Our team suffered three fatalities and four injuries.”

  Rychen bit back a sigh. It was nice while it lasted. “What about the Federation personnel?”

  “Sir?”

  “What were their casualties?”

  “I don’t…know, sir.”

  “Find out. But first tell me what happened. Give me the short version.”

  “The Federation personnel were on-site seeking to claim the world as well. Our people weren’t alerted to their presence until they encountered them during orbital beacon placement. The Federation representatives asserted they held first claim rights and refused to leave. After one of our vessels eliminated a Federation beacon, they fired a warning shot at the Alliance ships, and we returned fire.”

  Rychen didn’t share his uncharitable thoughts with the lieutenant. “Direct the NE 21st Platoon and a Medical Response Squad complement to conduct a rescue and recovery operation. Let the colonel over the 21st know I’ll speak with them before they arrive on the scene. Then get back to me with an update on the status of the Federation team. Dismissed.”

  The lieutenant saluted, pivoted and departed. Rychen stared at the map for an additional second before heading for his office, which sat adjacent to the command center along the outer ring of the station.

  When the door closed behind him he sent a holocomm request. It was just after 1100 in Cavare; at least he wouldn’t be waking her.

  The holo materialized to reveal Field Marshal Gianno sitting behind her desk, to outward appearances doing nothing at all. Another day at the office. “Admiral Rychen. It’s been a few weeks. What can I do for you?”

  Seven months ago they’d been thrown together into a pitched battle for humanity’s survival. In fifteen hours of combat they hadn’t come to blows—or even the plausible threat of blows—which made it a decent working relationship in military terms. In the intervening months they’d spoken a dozen or so times, met three times in person and exchanged numerous reports and recommendations. He suspected he corresponded with the Field Marshal more often than anyone else in the Alliance—but then again Messium was, if not quite on the Senecan Federation’s doorstep, certainly in its neighborhood.

  He wished this conversation wasn’t necessary. “I’m afraid we’ve had an incident. It was bound to happen I suppose, but in any event, I’ve just received word Alliance and Federation ships clashed while scouting a new planet we’re calling Itero—here are the Galactic Coordinates—and shots were exchanged. We have casualties, as I expect you do. If you haven’t been notified yet, I’m sure you will be soon.”

  “Perhaps not. Our planetary scouting teams are all civilian.”

  He only partially squelched a scoff at the double-edged retort. Alliance engineering regiments were as civilian as military got, but they were still military. “And it is unfortunate if that fact resulted in an unequal confrontation.”

  The response earned what might be a genuine, if miniscule, smile. He’d finally coaxed a real smile out of her the la
st time they met in person, something he took an inappropriate degree of pride in. “First, let’s address the emergency at hand. I have a recovery team en route. I’m willing to instruct the team to engage in any rescue and recovery operations needed for your Federation civilian personnel as well, but I wanted to get your permission first.”

  She glanced at a screen to her left. “I appreciate the offer, but it won’t be necessary. I have a platoon close. They’ll handle it.”

  “Let’s do try to ensure the rescue teams don’t start shooting at each other, shall we?”

  Her face was a perfect mask, giving away not a scintilla of emotion. “I’ll do my part.”

  He wondered with a touch of sadness how they had gotten here so quickly. “Marshal, our people should not be shooting at one another. This is exactly the kind of situation the politicians created the Conflict Resolution Board for. Both sides should have desisted from their activities and alerted their superiors, who would’ve filed grievances with the Board. Instead everyone had itchy trigger fingers.”

  “And now people are dead on both sides.” She nodded. “All right. Ideas on how to prevent this from happening again in the future?”

  “We each send a very public message that violence toward our allies will not be tolerated. If the facts turn out to be consistent with the early reports, I intend to bring courts-martial against the ship captain who gave the order to fire on the Federation vessels, as well as anyone else who shares culpability. They’ll be punished—as they should be—but they’ll also serve as a necessary example.”

  He’d daresay she looked surprised, which troubled him. He recognized Federation leaders remained wary about the Alliance’s intentions, but he’d hoped they didn’t group him in with the tone-deaf politicians.

  The expression was gone the next instant, so fast he might have imagined it. “Strictly speaking, I don’t have disciplinary authority over teams from the Interstellar Development Agency. But Chairman Vranas does, and I expect he won’t be pleased about this incident either. I’ll recommend a full hearing and sanctions against the on-site team, as well as their supervisors if insufficient training or unclear—or flat-out improper—mission guidelines contributed to the team believing opening fire was the correct way to resolve the conflict.”

 

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