by Travis Hill
Lt. Aweke muttered under his breath but was too professional to complain openly. Irina imagined the carrier’s fighter pilots were the only ones who weren’t pissed at her and whoever came up with this particular part of the plan. She grinned when she pictured a group of pilots pissing and moaning about how they were bored. Twenty-five gees to them was somewhere above non-alcoholic beer but below the swill they called coffee.
“Two hours until mandatory immersion,” ALVIN’s voice said over the ship’s comm. “Refueling complete in seventy-nine minutes.”
“Anything interesting in the logs?” Captain Meyer asked his admiral.
“Nothing. Veridians barked but everyone else is dead silent. Let’s hope the Rathala take a cue from their neighbors.”
“SF Command was adamant that the Rathala would look the other way as long as we didn’t dawdle,” Irina said.
“It’s a good thing they dislike the Kai as much as they do us,” Huang said. “Maybe we should have taken their advice.”
Irina said nothing, though she felt her head bob in agreement. The Rathala had warned the humans before the “conflict” erupted into full-scale war. It grated on the Coalition’s nerves that the Rathala hadn’t said more than a few words about the Kai in the decades leading up to humanity joining the Hanura and The Seven to take them on.
The Rathala, however, weren’t big into talking about any other aliens but themselves. Even when asked a direct question about another species, they inevitably turned it into praise of their own greatness. An intelligence report was delivered to Chancellor Thormund three weeks before the Kai cruiser showed up and alerted the Coalition that it was now a fight to the death—but like everyone else, he dismissed it as nonsense. No one seemed to realize it was the one and only time the Rathala ever talked about another species without referencing themselves.
Of course, Irina thought with bitterness, it was easy to see the clues and spot the mistakes fifty years and forty billion deaths later.
SEVEN
Task Force Nightfall translated into the RE-131 system at just over .62c. Irina sat in the XO’s chair, her tactical helmet pulsing with light from a dozen information windows. She realized she was holding her breath and expelled it softly as she pulled the timer up in her visor. Irina’s feet hurt from the constant 4g acceleration and her hands felt as heavy as her eyelids.
Three more hours, she thought to herself. It couldn’t come soon enough.
“Distortion isn’t giving us a good look at the system,” Lt. Hellewege said over the tactical comm.
“There shouldn’t be anything out here beyond the two stars,” Captain Meyer replied. He looked over at the XO’s chair. “And our two seedships.”
Irina hoped beyond hope that the years of supercomputer and AI calculations wouldn’t be for naught. Admiral Karlsson admitted that he had little faith that the two groups would meet up at such high speeds with time dilation affecting—
“Warning! Warning!” ALVIN blared over the ship-wide comm, destroying Irina’s train of thought. “Two unidentified objects bearing 324-015. Estimated speed .602c, acceleration 4.0542 gravities.”
“How the hell is that possible?” Huang asked no one in particular.
ALVIN answered. “Admiral, I’ve received an encrypted one-time Emergency Wire burst transmission on an unknown system within my configuration.”
“They buried an Emergency Wire transmitter in your systems and hid it from you?” Meyer asked in a strained voice.
“I do not know, Captain,” ALVIN answered. “I cannot ascertain the nature of the Emergency Wire transmission other than the short burst I received.”
Irina, along with the entire tactical crew, immediately maximized the AI’s alert window. She remembered to breathe once again. Her nerves tingled with anticipation as well as wonder that Command had inserted such a risky back door into Raiden’s AI.
“I don’t believe it,” Meyer said to himself, forgetting that he’d left his mic hot.
“I don’t either,” Admiral Huang said over the comm from his quarters. “How long before we can verify they’re -3 and -4?”
“Unfortunately,” Lt. Hellewege said, “we can’t verify until we slow down. Assuming Commander Drazek’s data is correct and the burst ALVIN received was legit, Genesis-3 and -4 should make the jump to RS-87 with the task force and begin deceleration. Once we get under .05c, we’ll be able to link to their transponders and gain entry to their shipboard control systems.”
“I guess we better hope we aren’t blindly escorting two Kai nova bombs,” Huang said. The admiral opened a private channel to Meyer and the Special Forces operative. “What happens if we aren’t synced properly?”
“The seedships are programmed to make the necessary jumps and refueling stops, then continue on their way without us,” Irina said. “At worst, since we know their final refueling point, we can try jumping ahead and catching them there.”
“You don’t sound too sure about that,” Huang said.
“Since we don’t have a Wire link to ping nav beacons nor track -3 and -4’s movements, we’re relying on simulation data and almost a decade’s worth of calculations to make sure we catch them here. At these speeds and without real-time navigation pings, we might have to wait in orbit around the refueling point for a few weeks. Or decades.
“If we’re off even a little on the other end, they’ll have refueled and resumed their journey before we arrive and we won’t know whether or not to go after them or wait for them to show up. We won’t be able to slave their navigation computers until both ships have slowed down enough to cut through the distortion. But even if we could, if the calculations are off by even a fraction of a fraction thanks to the distortion, one of us might slow down faster than the other, forcing ALVIN to spend months or more to make corrections.”
“Enough time for the Kai to fare better than they did during our last meeting,” Meyer said. “Even one extra required orbit around the planet during refueling could cost us half a day.”
“Those bastards probably only need an extra ten minutes to reconfigure their FTL translation points to shit all over our heads,” Huang growled.
Irina silently agreed, having been the victim of the Kai’s adaptability more than once. The old phrase “sitting duck” popped into her head, which made her grin and frown at the same time. Orbital bodies moved at velocities in the tens of thousands of kilometers per second, yet to an enemy fleet, it was as good as sitting still on the ground. There were only so many escape routes out of a planetary body’s gravity well, and if human fleets could lock in all of them, the Kai were guaranteed to be even better at it.
ALVIN initiated pre-jump directives, which sent non-essential crew to their creches just in case the fleet found themselves translating into an active engagement. Huang arrived at the bridge and took his seat after braving the heavy gravity pressing down on him. Over the next hour, the lighting in the bridge morphed from a light yellow to a deep red.
“Jump parameters locked in for Task Force Nightfall,” Lt. Korrigar announced. “Our two bogeys are hopefully in alignment.”
“ALVIN, jump activation on your mark,” Captain Meyer said.
“Affirmative, Captain,” ALVIN’s androgynous voice replied.
Irina held her breath as she watched the jump timer count down the last hundred seconds. ALVIN and the other AI controllers of Silver Fleet would initiate translation when their atomic clocks reached zero. She hoped the two seedships had their clocks synced properly. Even a nanosecond’s difference between the seedships and Silver Fleet could and likely would be disastrous at their velocities, especially since fifty-two capital ships would immediately flip and begin braking—assuming they hadn’t arrived six months ahead of the Genesis ships.
“Jump complete,” Lt. Korrigar called.
Irina felt her stomach flutter as Raiden started its four-minute rotation before firing its fusion engines. She kept her mind busy with the overload of data on her visor until light pressure from t
he eight capital-class thrusters pushed her back into the gel material. Fifty-two ships and two newcomers spent almost sixteen hours braking, leaving the crews struggling to breathe deeply.
The Special Forces commander was envious of the colonists and their hibernation creches. Unless a catastrophe interrupted their mission, the humans aboard would only wake up with a dry mouth and a nasty headache. Some of her envy was due to the sense of adventure that these eight thousand members of her species would begin the next chapter of human history on a strange world, in an uncharted region of space, with uncountable challenges to overcome if they were to survive. A dark part of her wondered how long it would take before humans gained a foothold and began to take aggressive actions against their stellar neighbors once more. She fell asleep holding on to the hope that humanity would learn from their mistakes.
***
“Commander?” Captain Sawalha said from a few centimeters away. Sawalha shook the woman’s arm again. “Commander Drazek?”
“Good morning, Captain,” Irina said. Her mouth felt as if someone had filled it with sand.
Sawalha smiled. “It’s actually 2200 hours, Ma’am. Admiral Huang ordered us to let you sleep.”
Irina nodded. The admiral had correctly assessed her lack of sleep. She was grateful he’d left her alone, even if the dreams she’d wandered through were strange, sometimes frightening. She flipped up the helmet’s visor and rubbed her eyes.
“I assume there’s news?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Sawalha answered, grinning at the frown Irina gave her. “We’ve confirmed Genesis-3 and -4’s transponders, and have a visual ID as well. Lt. Ken and Lt. Commander Anders have synced their control systems to ALVIN.”
“Anything unusual in their logs?” Irina asked then stood up and stretched.
“Nothing at all. Command was either incredibly lucky or incredibly skilled with their nav plots.”
“Transit clock?”
“Thirteen months for both. Genesis-3 launched three days and three hours before -4.”
“How about the passengers?”
“Four thousand green lights on each board. All systems are functional, no faults detected.” Sawalha grunted and shook her head. “Raiden itself suffers around six faults an hour in her systems, so whoever built these two ladies built them even better than ours.”
“Keep in mind, Captain, that Raiden and friends were basically built to be destroyed by enemy munitions within a decade or less. The Genesis ships were built to survive thousands of years if necessary.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Sawalha said, chuckling at the grumble of displeasure from the Special Forces commander. “We’re scheduled to jump into RS-46E for final refueling in less than ten hours. ALVIN has us at a comfortable 1g, just in case anyone wants to get some time in on Gold Deck.”
Irina removed her helmet. “Good. I’m headed there now.”
She winked at Captain Sawalha, who smiled at the subtle dig toward her for being stuck on the bridge another six hours until her shift ended. Irina stopped at her quarters to grab a clean uniform and underclothes before heading to Gold Deck. When she exited the lift and entered the makeshift bar, a number of men and women smiled and even complimented her on the mission’s success. Irina put on her best Special Forces face and reminded them as Commander Drazek that the successful launch of two out of five was encouraging, but by no means a victory.
The looks of rebuke and disappointment softened her tone. She quickly reminded them that SF Command was to be praised for their work in calculating every possible factor into the navigation data that allowed Task Force Nightfall to rendezvous with Genesis-3 and -4. She then did away with her formal commander’s persona and became just another enlisted sailor by buying a round for everyone. The alcohol flowed freely on Navy ships—commanding officers on every ship forbade a black market operating under within their domain—but the gesture was appreciated by all.
“First they think you’re here to rip their beating hearts from their chest while you make them watch you eat it,” Admiral Huang’s voice said from behind. “Now you’re a goddamn hero.”
Irina turned around. “It’s how we lull them into a sense of trusting complacency,” she said with an evil grin. “Buy you a drink, Mattias?”
He flinched at hearing his name spoken so casually, almost as if they were actual friends. She nodded her head to the bartender, an Ensign with short blond hair and bright blue eyes.
“Whiskey,” Huang said.
The bartender produced a glass and poured smoky liquid into it. Huang grabbed it and allowed Irina to lead him into the passageway.
“Where to?” he asked with curiosity.
“I need a soak,” was all she said.
Mattias Huang did his best to not stare at the woman’s naked body once they arrived at the bathing area and she began to strip down. He stood still, drink in hand, wondering if he should escape or remove his own clothing and enter the tube next to hers. He set his drink on a bench but paused when she spoke from behind.
“Admiral, for all intents and purposes, I’m considered your superior officer on this mission, correct?”
He turned, his fingers still on the zipper of his uniform, eyes narrowed.
“Did you drag me down here to tell me you plan on retiring me to quarters for the remainder of the mission?”
“Calm down, Mattias,” she said then dunked her head under the steaming water. “Answer the question,” she said after surfacing and wiping her eyes.
“Yes, you’re in command,” he said, feeling anger growing within at the bad news she was likely to pile on him with her next sentence or two.
“But at the same time, I’m actually a Commander, the Special Forces equivalent of a Navy Captain, correct?”
“Yes,” he answered, wondering where the hell she was going with her questions.
“Since Coalition regulations stipulate that commanding officers are not to fraternize with subordinates, I’m afraid I’m left with a very small pool of officers to fraternize with.”
Huang froze again. He stared at her with a mixture of fright and curiosity. He tried to say something but couldn’t open his mouth.
“Don’t look so shocked, Admiral,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m just making sure we’re both clear that I fall within the proper rank structure to engage in sexual activity.”
“Jesus, Drazek,” he said, afraid to do anything but stare at her. A sudden warning went off in his head. “You’re not trying to influence me in some way, are you?”
She laughed. “Admiral Huang, I’m in command of Task Force Nightfall. If I contradict your orders, you have to suck it up.” Her gaze wandered down to his feet before meeting his face again. “But since your dislike and distrust of me is so obvious a dead man could spot it, you’re the least likely to be influenced by me. Correct?”
“Go on…” he said, finally allowing his hand to unzip the uniform. He stepped out of it, grabbed his drink, then lowered himself into the tube beside hers.
“I know you don’t like me, Mattias,” she said. “But I believe myself to be somewhat attractive. And to be honest, I need the release.”
“Can’t you just order others to satisfy you?” he asked, regretting it immediately.
“Ah, Special Forces has its privileges for sure, but that’s not one of them. I don’t doubt my people have abused that particular perk, but SF Command frowns on such abuses of power even more than Naval Command does.”
“Why me?” he asked in a small voice before tossing back the rest of his drink. For some reason, he couldn’t stop shivering even though the water was hot enough to produce steam.
“Because you’re an incredible mix of Pacific-Asian and Scandinavian genetics,” she said. “And because I’m only slightly shallow, you’re also a brilliant tactician and strategist. One of the best in the entire Coalition.”
“Great,” he said with a sigh. “Appeal to my ego on two fronts.”
“And because Captain Sawalha is stuck
on the bridge for a few more hours.”
“I’m not sure if Captain Sawalha is into women,” he said, doing his best to not imagine the two together.
“She’s into women,” Irina assured him. “I just don’t know if she’d be into me.”
He sighed again. “Okay, Drazek. You’re definitely attractive. Just don’t kill me.”
She looked surprised. “Why does everyone think we like to fuck then murder? Meyer said almost the same thing.”
“You’ve been with Rickus?”
“First of all, Admiral Huang, that’s none of your fucking business. Second of all, because I know it will somehow stick in your mind and disrupt your focus from pleasing me, I’ll be honest and tell you that no, I have not spent that kind of time with Captain Meyer. Does that satisfy your ego?”
Huang’s lip curled down but he couldn’t deny the relief at hearing his XO hadn’t fraternized with the Special Forces spook. He wasn’t sure why it was a relief, or even why he would care who Meyer did or didn’t sleep with.
“Admiral?” Irina said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. He focused his eyes on hers. “You of course are not required to submit, and are free to decline my offer.”
“Fuck off, Drazek,” he said, annoyed at her formal tone.
Mattias Huang pulled himself from his tube and slid into hers, immediately becoming hard when her hands latched onto his back. Her small breasts pushed into his chest a heartbeat before her lips found his. He worried for a few seconds that his instant response to her touch most definitely would influence his feelings about her in the future. Those worries were abandoned when she turned around and used her hand to gently guide him to the right location.
EIGHT
Task Force Nightfall, the Genesis seedships now increasing the fleet size to fifty-four ships, began its trek across the far edges of Anasi territory, a strange race of space-faring creatures with more limbs than torso. The Anasi were no threat to anyone with their non-existent military, though none of the other sentient races in the neighborhood had any designs on their resources. Anasi space was an old pocket of red giant stars, very few planets, and even fewer planetoids, asteroids, and comets.