by S. H. Jucha
When the Rêveur returned to Confederation space, its bays held four fighters armed with an assortment of missiles. Its crew comprised a mix of the original eighteen Méridiens and over a hundred New Terrans. Alex and his New Terran crew had received the Méridien gifts of cell-gen injections for health and longevity, and implants, enabling comms between individuals or groups, even across the Confederation via FTL stations.
The return to the Méridien home world held a brief moment of joy and celebration for the Rêveur’s long-lost survivors. During their ship’s repairs in New Terra, many of the Méridiens had feared the possibility that more than one marauding silver ship might have been loosed on their Confederation’s colonies. Their excitement over the forthcoming reunion had turned to dismay when they observed the myriad of House ships fleeing the advance of the aliens, who were now only days away via FTL.
When Renée’s brother, the new House de Guirnon Leader, attempted to commandeer their ship and abandon the New Terrans, he couldn’t have anticipated his people’s reaction. The Rêveur’s Méridiens had undergone a transformation during their time with their more life-embracing cousins, the New Terrans. Faced with the directive to dishonor their Captain and their New Terran comrades, they chose instead to abandon their House, which had led Alex and Renée to record their petition to the Confederation Council as the first military House in the Méridien culture’s 700-year history.
Julien had deliberately leaked word of the formation of the new House by Alex and Renée, and to a man, woman, and SADE, the crew had joined House Alexander, the Confederation’s new military arm.
Now, House Alexander prepared to meet House Bergfalk.
-2-
The Rêveur, the Outward Bound, and the two Daggers had taken positions 10 km out from one of the giant construction stations to await the arrival of Leader Stroheim and his entourage.
In the interim, Julien was sleuthing. Using the system’s FTL comm station, he searched for other SADEs in system, which could be expected to be embedded on FTL-capable ships or on planet, the orbital stations requiring only sophisticated controllers. To his surprise, Julien discovered that the two-kilometer-wide constructions, which Alex had dubbed “city-ships,” had co-opted SADEs. They had been Independents. His total count of SADEs was seven: two in the city-ships, two in the freighters, two in the liners, and one on board a liner that had exited the system. However, comm station records indicated he should have located one more. Apparently more sleuthing was required.
Andrea Bonnard, the Rêveur’s Captain, and Lieutenant Sheila Reynard, the new Squadron Leader, left the Captain’s cabin for the bridge.
Sheila’s comment to Andrea when informed of her promotion, days ago, had been, “Best decision I’ve ever made was to apply to Barren, Captain. At this rate, I’ll make Air Command General or something in a year.” Then she had added ruefully, “If I live that long.”
Tatia interrupted them in the corridor. “Captain, if I might speak with you?”
Andrea nodded to Sheila to continue on and said, “Yes, Commander, how may I help you?”
Just six days ago, Andrea had reported to Tatia as the Rêveur’s Squadron Leader. But Tatia, who had the credentials of the Rêveur’s First Mate and an ex-Major in the Terran Security Forces, had politely refused the promotion to Senior Captain. In an unexpected turn of events, Andrea found Tatia and Alex ganging up on her to accept the Senior Captain’s position. Andrea’s fear of becoming the flotilla’s senior officer had her also ready to refuse the offer until Renée intervened, nominating, or better said, shoving Alex into the position of Admiral.
If Andrea had expected personal conflict between her and Tatia over the promotion, it had never happened. In a moment of frankness, Tatia had told her, “Captain, I’ve always been a ground-pounder. I need time to learn to be a space-puke like you.” The cheeky smile accompanying Tatia’s forthright comment had made Andrea smile in return. After that, the two officers had settled into a comfortable relationship.
“What are your plans for Leader Stroheim’s reception, Captain?” Tatia asked.
“I take it you have some suggestions, Commander?”
“Several, actually, Captain. I’d like to show you something in storage,” Tatia said and nodded down the corridor.
Andrea’s eyebrows tilted up in inquiry, but it appeared her new XO would rather show than tell as Tatia began leading the two of them down the corridor to take a lift to a lower deck.
* * *
As Alex and Renée walked from their cabin down to the port bay for House Bergfalk’s reception, he took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. In the corridors, the crew stepped aside and came to attention as their Co-Leaders strolled past. Despite their embroilment in the first war in their 700-year history, a war worse than they could have imagined, Alex and Renée were enjoying their time as new lovers. The faces of the crew at attention held no disapproval. Instead there were twitches of smiles and grins, reflecting Alex’s happy face.
Renée found the carefree manner in which New Terrans expressed their emotions exhilarating. It was a freedom denied by her people’s formal composure and sensibilities. She sought to interlace both hands around Alex’s bulging upper arm, despite knowing she wouldn’t succeed, but it tickled her just to try.
New Terra, with its greater gravity, produced humans with nearly twice the girth of Méridiens. From her time on New Terra, Renée knew Alex was one of his planet’s larger specimens, due in large part to his youthful years working with his father’s collection and recycle of space debris. And Alex had the appetite to prove it, which she witnessed in the meal room. She smiled at the memory of her people, soon after their rescue, courteously drawing out their meals to end when the Captain finally finished devouring his multiple serving dishes.
When they entered the port bay’s airlock, Alex signaled Andrea.
Alex peered through the hatch’s crystal shield and saw Andrea, Tatia, and the honor guard, all attired in Méridien environment suits and holding Terran Security Forces pulse rifles.
Andrea replied.
Alex said.
Alex considered the General’s “gifts,” detecting the fine hand of President McMorris as well. Their foresight and endeavors to protect his crew touched him.
The bay doors were open, and the lights of a giant orbital station and its massive ship twinkled in the distance. Beyond the station and ship loomed Libre, wrapped in brown, gold, and green. Julien received the shuttle controller’s docking signal and subsumed its operations, guiding the shuttle gently into the bay and settling it to the deck.
Chief Stanley Peterson’s crew locked the shuttle down and closed the bay door. When the bay pressurized, Stan signaled the Admiral, who, with Renée, cycled through the airlock. The escort twins, Étienne and Alain de Long, who had taken up oversight positions in the bay for the shuttle’s landing, moved to flank Alex and Renée.
Eight Rêveur crew members took up positions at the end of the shuttle’s extended gangway ramp, standing at attention in two rows. Andrea and Tatia waited at each row’s end.
* * *
Inside the shuttle, Leader Eric Stroheim vacillated between anger and curiosity. His world had been the epit
ome of order until the aliens arrived. In the midst of the chaos, he had sought refuge with the Independents. Now his life was being disturbed once again and by what appeared to be a travesty of the human form.
When the shuttle pilot signaled all was ready, Eric led his small contingent down the gangway ramp and received what he considered a bizarre gesture from the Rêveur’s crew as they snapped their hands to their heads. At least they rendered their motion in synchronicity, he thought. Despite their incredible size, the heavily-built humans weren’t ponderously slow as he had expected.
Eric eyed the crew’s long-barreled weapons and presumed they were a sign of inferior technology, their society incapable of miniaturizing the components to produce a sophisticated stun weapon. When Eric came to a halt in front of their Leader, he examined the huge human and worked to conceal his disdain. Eric had always been proud of his elegant, slender build. The creature in front of him was more akin to a hulking animal than a human.
As Eric Stroheim stopped before him, Alex extended the Méridien greeting, which the Leader returned, and sent,
Alex felt his blood warm the back of his neck, and he fought to prevent his fingers from curling into fists. The Leader’s condescending thoughts irked him. Worse, the man had chosen to ignore courtesy for the sake of questioning New Terran capabilities. Despite the occasion’s importance, Alex couldn’t resist responding in kind and proceeded to update the Leader on their recent events.
Eric Stroheim reeled under the onslaught of multiple vid streams to his implant—the New Terran-Méridien Pact, the Rêveur’s repairs, the crew’s adoption of Méridien tech, the development of fighters and missiles, the nightly implant games, and the fight to capture the first silver ship. As Eric staggered under the impression that many people were comming him all at once, muddling his cognitive senses, his guests sought to steady him. In the midst of the mental avalanche, Eric wondered how his comm security protocols had been bypassed.
When the House Bergfalk shuttle had touched down in the bay, Alex had conference-linked Renée, Andrea, Tatia, the twins, and Julien to facilitate communications. Except for Julien, the others had been transfixed by the vid barrage they had just witnessed. Alex’s unnatural proficiency with his recently-installed Méridien implants had become one of the crew’s running jokes: their Admiral wasn’t New Terran or Méridien since his implant dexterity was more alien than human. The crew had single devices, used primarily for comms, while Alex employed two implants, creating applications and manipulating data, much as Méridien scientists and mathematicians did. But there hadn’t been an occasion to witness his implants employed as a mental force, a display of power Eric Stroheim had just found himself receiving.
Renée replied.
To further facilitate introductions, Alex added the Leader’s guests to the conference comm. Surprised expressions formed on their faces as the Admiral flawlessly bypassed their implant security protocols and manipulated their comms, capabilities only a SADE or advanced Méridiens possessed but would never have employed.
Alex sent back and heard Julien’s chuckle.
Eric shrugged off the Admiral’s mental intrusion and motioned to his guests.
Tomas and Angelina wore warm-brown ship suits in contrast to typical Méridien starship uniforms of deep, dark blue. And unlike the few Méridien men Alex had seen, who were all clean-faced, Tomas sported a slender brown moustache that tapered over the corners of his mouth and a small pointed beard on his chin. The Independent Leader was lithe like all Méridiens, but his eyes, swirls of browns and greens, searched like a bird of prey instead of exhibiting the usual Méridien calm.
The simple, personal request instantly elevated the man in Alex’s mind. He extended his hand and sent a short vid of their custom.
Tomas eyed the powerful hand in front of him. The vid he received of two giant New Terrans greeting one another was not reassuring. He received a private thought from Ser de Guirnon:
Unlike the men with her, Angelina Monti felt no such reticence engaging the Admiral. That a House de Guirnon daughter stood next to the powerful New Terran was an intriguing sign to her. Stepping close enough to cross into Alex’s personal space, she clasped his hand with both of hers.
Renée recognized the overtures of an un-partnered Méridien woman—Lina’s intimacy, her brilliant smile, both of her hands enclosing Alex’s hand, and her large, dark eyes, favored by many of Earth’s Italian descendants, shining and inviting.
After Alex carefully untangled himself from Lina, he announced,
Mickey Brandon, the Rêveur’s Chief Engineer, was standing by in the starboard bay. Although Mickey had never been in the Terran Security Forces, he rendered a sharp salute to his Admiral as the entourage arrived.
Tatia Tachenko, the Rêveur’s ex-TSF major, had created military protocol vids for the crew, since most of them had been civilians their entire lives. Mickey had sat in bed with Pia, his Méridien lover, reviewing the vids. When they came to the salute, Pia had insisted they practice. It didn’t help Mickey that Pia had pulled them naked from the bed to salute each other. At the start, Mickey felt awkward, but Pia wouldn’t let him stop until she was satisfied. At one point, after another unsatisfactory attempt on Mickey’s part, Pia had said to him, “You think of this salute as an exercise. Think of my worlds in flame and think of our Admiral who has bound us together to fig
ht for our people. What honor would you render him?”
In the starboard bay, Alex and his people stood aside for their guests, who came to a sudden halt at the sight of the silver ship, which rested on the bay’s deck. Mickey’s sampling and spectrographic equipment surrounded the craft, whose hull was a dark, shiny silver patina, except where patches of nanites had weakened the crystal matrix, dulling its surface, and where the warhead missile had penetrated one such patch, exploding inside the ship and destroying its occupants.
The guests had no comments as they stared at the silver ship. Alex wondered what it must be like to have been haunted by the specter of these aliens for decades, never daring to fight back, as their enemy consumed colony after colony, murdering billions of their people. Now their guests were confronted with the remains of one of the deadly predators, and it was not their people who had captured it, but strangers working in concert with Méridien survivors, lost for seventy-one years.
Tomas began walking toward the ship.
Eric instructed Tomas and discovered his private comm had been sent to the entire group. He turned an annoyed look on Alex, who responded to the Leader’s glare with an amused expression.