The day had ended and robots were down there, cleaning up the metallic red dust that covered the majority of Earth.
Nivad looked between the towers and the criss-crossing lights of thousands of air vehicles moving from tower to tower, moving the rich and wealthy. Even chauffeurs here were a luxury, with self-driving cars. They served no function, but they could open doors and were paid more than colonists on a hostile planet.
At one time Nivad had wanted to overthrow the entire thing for fun, and he still thought about ways to do just that. Yet, as he matured and took in the world, he realized that it was much easier to just manipulate what was already there. He didn’t do much, a bit of leverage here, talking in the right ears there.
A threat, or piece of information someone wanted to keep buried, was useful. He might have been young, but he had built an empire by being savage and cold.
That’s what he had read in reports of people’s conversations on him. He didn’t care about others’ opinions.
Humans, ridiculous creatures constrained by emotion and image. A wry smile spread across his face out of practice rather than any real interest.
Though, to compete in their world, I too have become constrained by image and the stupidity of positioning.
He continued to look over Mega City and the slums that lay beyond it. He wasn’t prejudiced towards the people in the slums like many of the rich. They both had their uses.
Powerful people could cost him time and wealth to deal with. The people in the slums gave him tools to use easily; a few credits here, a promise there, and they would give their life for that stability.
The convoy entered one of the tower’s parking areas. They passed deeper inside, stopping before an elevator. A guard opened the door, others moving around Nivad as he walked to the elevator. It opened for them and they stepped on, heading down.
Dalia and Wallace were waiting for him, their faces grim. Nivad didn’t say anything as he moved for his offices. The security detail moved around Wallace and Dalia, opening and checking the room with scanners before leaving them in peace.
Nivad pulled out a sound canceler, and turned to Wallace and Dalia. “Go.”
“Those signals that we were reading in Housapel, they’re ships. Don’t know how they did it, but those Harmony bastards have another fleet and it’s headed right towards Earth,” Wallace said.
Nivad tapped his lip in thought, looking at the view screen that showed Mega City’s skyline as if his office was a few hundred floors up.
“I take full responsibility. I should have had more techs working on it and trying to figure it out,” Wallace said, bowing his head in defeat.
“While that might be, no one else caught it, so we will just have to deal with it,” Nivad said, waving Wallace’s apology away. Nivad knew that Wallace would drive himself harder if Nivad went easy on him. He would punish himself and do his best possible.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Wallace said, sounding relieved but still angry with himself.
Play the man, not the situation, Nivad thought, remembering some sage advice he’d been given long ago.
“How fast are they moving?” Nivad asked taking a seat in his chair.
“They are travelling at point-three-five the speed of light,” Dalia said.
Nivad’s head churned in thought. “How long will it take them to reach Sol?”
“Fifty-two years,” Wallace said.
“It will take the Troopers at Fernix fifty-one years to reach Sol at full speed,” Nivad said, more to himself than anyone else.
Nivad caught Dalia’s look.
“You have another thought?” Nivad asked.
“It’s my understanding that if we were to take four Carriers from Fernix, then the EMF would not be able to keep pushing the Chosen,” she said.
“They won’t,” Nivad confirmed.
He saw the question forming before she could put words to it.
Oh, what it must be like in those minds? Nivad thought.
“We have all of the EMF pull off Fernix, and they shoot anything that tries to leave the planet. Once the Housapel forces link up with them, we have the Housapel forces take the brunt of the attack. They are unbloodied and not as valuable as the forces in Fernix. We spend them up and take back the planet. It will take more resources, but we should reclaim the cost in killed Troopers,” Nivad said.
“Why not simply train up more Carriers to defend Earth?” Dalia asked.
She had proved to be a good sounding board many times, as she was the only person that played devil’s advocate to his plans. It was a useful exercise, Nivad had found, even when he knew his plan would work and had figured it out months ago. She hadn’t, and was trying to catch up.
Yelling at her would only reduce her effectiveness as a sounding board.
“They would turn into the Chosen that were seen on Masoul and Osdal. They would have power, the kind that they have never had before. We don’t have any proper trainers left, we sent off the veterans with the Housapel Carriers. The forces we have here have been in limbo for more than a hundred years. We will need to train them up before the battle as well. If we take Troopers from Fernix, we are getting people that are fresh from fighting Chosen forces. They have been fighting them for nearly two years, at least; others have been fighting them since Masoul. They are more expensive, but they are also the most formidable group we have. They will make up our central units and they will train the other units to fight around them.” Nivad looked at them with a serene smile on his face. “After all, who wouldn’t want to fight alongside the heroes of Masoul, Osdal, and Fernix?”
“You want to have the Victor brothers and the people of the Triple-Twos back here?” Dalia sounded shocked.
“Why shouldn’t I? They are the best at what they do.”
“If they choose to, they might be able to raise the rabble around them,” Wallace said. Even his politically blind mind saw the implications. They had been turned into heroes by the Ministry of Intelligence. What would they do with that title if they found the war over, their feet on Earth and an E-12 in their hands?
What indeed? Nivad thought, interested by the subject. It was half of the reason he was doing it.
“We will just have to have a talk with them when they arrive,” Nivad said with a smile, ending the discussion.
“I will pull together a list of the best Trooper groups on Fernix. I will cut orders for Captain Hall to have his forces leave as soon as possible,” Dalia said, looking to Nivad for any other orders.
“Have a full resupply awaiting the Troopers when they get here; that new ammunition, screamers, Combat Shuttles. This fight is coming to our front door, and we don’t have time to skimp. Harmony will land somewhere, and no matter where it is the Troopers must destroy them,” Nivad said.
Harmony, and whoever was behind it, was making their final play and challenging Nivad directly. He hadn’t been truly challenged in a few hundred years.
The future will be interesting indeed, he thought.
Chapter 61
Factory Complex Three
Blue Moon, Fernix System
2/3296
“We’re what?” Ko asked, looking at Ortiz as if he had grown a third head.
Jerome understood the feeling as he sighed, sitting against the wall, rubbing his face. Guess I need to shave some time.
“Lieuten...” a staffer started, but Ortiz’ dark eyes silenced the man.
Ortiz nodded before turning back towards the group of officers around the table, they were all grimy and tired. They’d been deep in preparations for their counterattack on the facilities that were making bomb vests and fighters.
“We’re going back to Earth, Ko. Now listen up and let me finish,” Ortiz said.
“Yes, sir,” Ko said, nodding. The man was tired; he’d just come from a three-week stint outside the wire.
“Looks like there’s a fleet hiding out somewhere. The ministry has credible intelligence that the fleet is going towards Ea
rth. Our orders are to pull back from the surface of the Blue Moon, leaving a Carrier force behind to keep Harmony forces isolated here and harassing the almighty shit out of them. Four or so Carriers will be leaving the system for Earth. We have two months to execute this plan and be on our way. Captain Hall and I have talked, and he is going to up-armor and weaponize the Carriers’ untouched sides as much as possible, taking as much of the hulks with us and doing the upgrades as we head for Earth,” Ortiz said.
“How long will we get to train?” Mark asked as Ortiz paused, sounding tired and as if he was just going through the motions.
“A year. Anyone that has the skills for helping out the engineers and such slap armor onto our hull will also be getting woken up through our little cruise. Once we get to Earth, we will have a year or less to prepare for the Harmony forces. We do not know what kind of ships, or the numbers they will have with them. We will need to create a defensive plan for Sol. All of it will be run by the Ministry of Intelligence,” Ortiz said.
Well awesome, Jerome thought. He liked Moretti, but he also knew that Moretti was atypical of the people working for the ministry.
Being in Sol, Jerome had no doubt that the ministry would be all over the place. Hopefully they’d fuck off enough to let the Troopers do their damned jobs.
“What about Fernix?” Dooks asked, his deep rolling voice gaining nods as they looked at Ortiz.
“Well that’s what we’ve got to figure out, isn’t it,” Ortiz looked around the room as backs straightened. “Now get that go-juice pumping, I need your brains and I need them now. Some smart arsed fucker thought they liked the sound of my name, so I’m coordinating what is sure to be the cluster-fuck of the century: getting off this shit hole of a rock.” He moved the chew around in his lip and spat into a bottle.
His words had an effect and Jerome accessed his implants, activating his augments to clear his fatigue and get his brain functioning.
“Let’s try and keep it simple and fast. We’ve got a lot of people to move, and not much time, or lift capability. We also have at least a few hundred fighters and suicidal Harmony fanatics all over the place.” A projector hummed on the table and a hologram of Blue Moon rotated above it.
“Sounds like my kind of party,” Dashtund said.
“If you said your kind of party was a party of bohemian clowns drinking that piss you call liquor I wouldn’t be surprised,” Ortiz said.
“Aww, thanks, major,” Dashtund said, trying to sound touched as he grinned and others snorted with amusement. It was a small joke, but it cut the tension in the air and focused the group.
“Now, here’s what I’m thinking,” Ortiz said, locations appearing on Blue Moon’s map.
Chapter 62
The Yard
Sol System
2/3296
Jane Costa looked up from her work. She was working on the latest of the four Madeline-classed freighters that were currently being built in the Elmer Yard, named after her great-grandfather who had always used his last name.
The freighters were enough to draw anyone’s eyes; they were three kilometers long two kilometers wide. The Triumphant-classed freighter, that was just a central spine mount which would be covered in containers, would be twice the size.
Some of the other companies were now starting to make larger freighters and, while they had the money for it, they hadn’t built up the infrastructure and plans.
They were old companies and any large changes seemed to take years. The Yard was used to quick and fast changes, they were still relatively young, and they had not had an easy time. They refused to get into political games and instead, worked as hard as possible to put their work where their mouth was.
Droz, her working partner, looked over as she stopped work. “Something up, Jane?”
“Need to get back to the office,” Jane said, a chill running down her spine at the message she’d received.
“Okay,” Droz said, stowing his gear.
Jane sent a message to her son Damien to meet her at the office, and used her pressurized air jets to take her back to one of the working hubs where materials, safety equipment, and tools were located. She groaned with the return of gravity, the aches and pains of hard work pulling at her joints and bones.
“Sorry about this, Droz. Seems pretty important, have to take it.” She and Droz had been friends for most of their lives. He’d got her working back out on the crews after Elwin, her second husband, had been killed in an accident.
“No worries, Janey,” Droz said with a placating smile.
She smiled back and divested herself of tools as Droz went off to the break room.
A shuttle arrived shortly after and whisked her off to the head office, where Damien was waiting for her with a concerned look on his face.
“Mum, is there something wrong?” he asked, his eyes drawn into a frown.
“I’ll explain in the office,” Jane said, feeling all of her years as she smiled and greeted people, making idle chit-chat.
Once inside her office with the door closed, she took her seat behind her desk, propping her feet up on a convenient area heater.
Damien took a seat opposite, his look questioning.
“As you know, us Costas don’t own The Yard,” Jane started.
“The Westerly Threes do,” Damien said.
“In a way. The people that own The Yard came from the Westerly Three Complex. At that time, they didn’t even control their own complex.”
“They own the greenhouses and even protect the wealth in the tower cities on Earth,” Damien said.
Jane gave Damien a can I finish my story? look.
“Sorry,” he said, blushing a bit and smiling.
“There were two brothers, Mark and Tyler Victor,” Jane said, seeing Damien’s eyes widen. Everyone knew of the Victor brothers and their exploits as Troopers.
“They had a friend, now turned brother, Jerome Victor. Mark and Jerome gave Elmer Costa, your great-great-grandfather, the money to start The Yard, and they built the community of greenhouses, tying it - and us - to the Westerly Three Complex gang,” Jane explained.
“They’ve been gone for hundreds of years though.”
“Yes, they set up a system that would allow us to operate even as they were travelling between systems or fighting. For the universe it has been decades, for them, they’re only about ten years older than you,” Jane said.
“So they started the yards; what does this have to do with anything?”
“They own The Yard, the greenhouses of Earth, the Westerly Three Complex gang,” Jane corrected.
“And you want to change that?” Damien asked, confused.
“No.” Jane’s face turned darker as she looked into Damien’s eyes. “The Victors kept faith in us, they gave our family a future, and if not for them, you would have been born and lived in the slums. The Yard would never have existed. We will never betray them. What do you think our own people who came from the ranks of the Troopers, or have people that were Troopers in their ancestry would do if we betrayed them? What do you think the Victor brothers would do if we betrayed them?”
“Nothing good,” Damien said, looking into Jane’s eyes.
“Nothing good,” Jane repeated, nodding, her eyes becoming distant.
Though nothing good seems to be the only news I get from these brothers, she thought, looking at the view screen of her office. The original yard had grown in size, but it still made small inter-system freighters and shuttles. Offices had built up around her own office as The Yard had grown during her years of management.
“Mom?”
She returned to the office and the message she had received. She reached into her desk and pulled out a cigarette, and offered one to Damien. He shook his head as Jane lit the cigarette and took a deep pull.
She let out the smoke in a slow breath. “The brothers are coming home.”
“Why?” Damien said, leaning forward, anxious.
“To destroy the Harmony fleet that�
�s coming,” Jane took another draw on her cigarette, watching as Damien’s eyes widened and he sat back in his seat.
They had both seen snippets of the Harmony War. It was brutal and terrible, but it had been in some other system, on some other planet.
“We need to prepare for whatever happens,” Jane said, looking at Damien. “You need to be ready to take over if needed. We have fifty years to prepare.”
“We’ll be ready,” Damien assured her.
She simply nodded, smoking her cigarette.
Chapter 63
Alezio City
Goulag, Demash System
3/3296
“Hold the line!” Nerva yelled, pulling out his old magazine and slapping in a new one.
He had moved up with two full contubernium’s of legionnaires to support the beleaguered century. The Maraukians and their vibra-blades were opening up Sections of the Troopers’ defenses.
Techs were rushing around with their heavy powered armor, toting machine guns to replace those that had been destroyed by the Maraukian horde outside the city.
Fucking apes, Nerva thought, firing his M19 through the murder hole in front of him. Maraukians wailed and screamed, the noises penetrating even his helmet.
Their fellows cared little for their screams, throwing them out of the way so that they might close with The Legion’s camp walls, and cut their way inside.
Acceleration tubes were sending round after round into the Maraukian horde, but they numbered in the millions. The battle had been going on for months now, with Maraukians adding themselves to the battle as fast as possible.
“King sighted,” NIDenise said, highlighting the Maraukian leader. You could tell the higher ranked Maraukians by the extra implants sprouting through their dirty-grey hair and the weapons that were grafted into their backs and arms.
Usually the Maraukians would run on their four limbs, allowing the weapons on their backs to fire. Now, they were too close to use their back-mounted weapons, so they stood on their rear four limbs, using their forward two to wield vibra-blades as big as a human.
Fernix (Harmony War Book 4) Page 21