by Mark Wandrey
“Okay, first of all, I have something for you that’s been long overdue.” He stood and came around the desk, Gregg standing as he approached. Jacob held out a little black box that Gregg took with surprise. Inside were two red stars, not black like the ones he currently wore. “I’m sorry it was so long in coming.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Gregg stammered.
“I’d really like it if you could tell me where Minu went off to in that ship that her daughter so dutifully guards.”
Gregg’s face fell immediately. The promotion could just be a form of bribery, could it?
“She didn’t tell me,” he said flatly. The two stars suddenly felt heavy in his hands. He wanted them more than anything, but that didn’t include the cost of betraying his best friend in the world. And besides, other than going off in pursuit of her father’s secret journal entries and taking Aaron, Cherise and Pip along for the ride, he really didn’t know where. “She said it was personal, and I took her word for it.”
Jacob stared into his eyes for a long moment before nodding his head. “I really didn’t expect you to tell me, even if you do know. That woman might be the most annoying person on this world, but she instills such loyalty from her friends as I’ve never seen before.”
“She earns it,” Gregg corrected.
Jacob nodded absently as he returned to his side of the desk. “I’m sorry there wasn’t time for a formal party and reception with the rest of the council. We’ll schedule something shortly as we make it official that the Rangers are the sixth branch of the Chosen.”
“I’m sure Minu will want to participate in that.”
“She’s earned at least that much. The reason this is rushed is because we have another job for the Rangers.”
Gregg sat back down and took out a tablet to make notes on.
“We’ve decided to grant a contract to the Akala.”
“I thought the council ruled that out? The little hedgehogs are nothing but trouble.”
“They do tend to get themselves into more fights than a drunken kloth rancher, but they also have a lot of powerful friends. We recently had it made apparent by the broker who’s been arranging our power purchases offworld that if we don’t extend our offers of soldiers to the Akala that our shipments of EPC might start running into unforeseen delays.”
“Those bastards!” Gregg snarled.
“Indeed,” said Jacob. “The science branch has made alternative power generation a priority for more than a decade, but with the deteriorating environmental conditions, and the civilian industrial market getting hungrier by the year, we just can’t make any headway. The planetary leadership is in a panic at the suggestion of even a minor reduction in power delivery. Stock markets and all that sort of stuff.”
Gregg rolled his eyes. Such things were light-years beyond his understanding, or concerns.
Jacob continued: “The Akala presented a series of three contracts, and the council accepted the least ‘provocative’ of the three. They’re going to push their claim on a junk pile called Planet K.”
“Been there once, long time ago. Quick snatch and grab for the Tog.” Gregg scratched his chin, recalling the territory. “Damn thing is like a never ending consumer mall. Endless piles of toaster ovens and juice machines, was my impression.”
“That’s the place. Akala claim there are a number of items there that can’t be had anyplace else. They’ve been squabbling over it with the Leesa for years.”
“Leesa are piss-ant reptilian Rasa wannabes. They don’t rate ten percent of the Akala’s power. Why haven’t they just stomped them years ago?”
“The Akala claim the Leesa are dug in too well and control the Portal Spire. They want us to drive them off with a minimal disruption.”
“We’ve worked for the Leesa before. They won’t like this.”
Jacob spread his hands and sighed before rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We’re trying to be as even handed as we can with the Rangers’ services, but no matter what we keep running into this problem.”
Gregg was sorely tempted to remind him that Minu had warned of just this situation. You can’t offer mercenary services without playing favorites. Jacob had been trying to be neutral all along, and it was a losing battle.
By not taking jobs from the big senior players like the Akala, they’d angered that bloc and started to get threats from them.
And by working for the more powerful species, now they were bound to piss off the minor species such as the Leesa and a dozen others who were the Rangers’ meat and potatoes contracts, offering lucrative and often easy to perform garrison or defensive jobs.
Word had spread quickly of the Rangers’ formidable arms and tactics. Often the Rangers’ presence was enough to ensure no-one messed with their charges.
“How big of a contingent are they requiring?”
Jacob licked his lips and took a moment to consult his desk computer. “An entire division.”
“Sir, that is going to really put a strain on us. We have four battalions off world, that's one division, and the better part of another battalion down from attrition. Leaving one battalion minimum per fort for garrison, that's another division, leaving only seven battalions un-deployed. Sending out a full division only leaves us with three battalions in reserve. Pretty damn thin should anything go wrong here.”
“We know better than to run an open ended contract this time. We'll only have you there for four months, maximum. By that time your replacements should be up, giving you two more battalions, right?”
“If everything goes perfectly, yes.”
“Good, then we're on the same page.”
Gregg ground his teeth and looked down, opening his right first and noticing for the first time that the two sets of stars had been digging into his skin. The red points glistened with his blood, giving them a surreal effect in the office’s lights. And now he would have to go off across the galaxy for months, leaving his infant son behind. “I'd like to go on record as a member of the council as being against this contract.”
Jacob nodded then shrugged. “Unfortunately that order of business was completed before you were elected to the council. However, I will note your concerns. Is there anything else?”
“No sir. What is the starting date of the operation?”
Chapter 28
April 17th, 534 AE (subjective)
Deep Space, Galactic Frontier
Pip shook his head and tapped on his tablet. On the table between him and Minu was arrayed the remains of the two dragonfly-bots. “I'm not saying it's difficult, I'm saying it's fucking impossible.”
“If it's fucking impossible as you so quaintly put it, then how did the damn Squeen manage it?”
“I'd give another chunk of brain to know.”
Minu grumbled and took a sip of her tea before continuing. “Okay, so let’s go over it again.” Pip shrugged. “The Squeen somehow overrode the security protocol of a bot designed not to be overrode, over-wrote the bots’ bios, gave it new commands, and made it immune to the PUFF in less than one second.”
“All at range instead of direct contact,” Pip added, “which is against the design of the bot.”
“Great, so we're in agreement on that then. So how could they do that?”
“It's impossible.”
“Graaar!” Minu growled and pounded the table. Unfortunately she used her left hand because her right was holding the tea cup. She put the cup down and massaged her bruised left. “Pretend it isn't impossible.”
“I can't.”
“Then how could it not be impossible?”
“The only way I could even conceive of that scenario is if the damned Squeen designed the bots in the first place. That or if they have the index for FTL communications with all the other chips out there.”
He shook his head and tapped on his tablet. When he looked up Minu was staring at him with her mouth open.
“What?”
“Pip, you're a damn genius!” She jumped up,
leaned over the table and kissed him on the lips then ran out the door.
“I know,” he said, somewhat stunned. Then he cocked his head in confusion. “Why?” But she was already out the door.
* * *
Two decks down the door to the mini-CIC slid open at her approach.
“Hello mother.” She turned gracefully, this time surrounded by the depths of space around them, stars slid by in lengthened streaks of light. Red in front of them, white to the sides, and blue behind them. It was difficult to believe they were traveling five thousand times the speed of light.
“Lilith, I have a question. You said the Squeen are listed as the Passcal in the old records of The People.”
“That is correct.”
“What does the records say the Squeen did in the Concordia?”
Lilith got that slightly vacant look when she was using her implants to study computer data from the ship’s network.
“The Passcal are technological masters of optronics and ships systems. Passcal specialists helped design many of the basic systems on this vessel. They are valued for their ingenuity and creativity when dealing with technological issues. In particular, the Passcal are noted for their prowess in robotics, having designed both the dragonfly-bot and cockroach-bots, as you call them.”
Minu slapped her hands together and laughed, making her daughter cock her head and regard her curiously. “Excellent, that answers at least one question.”
“You might want to know I've been studying the scans of the stealth frigate.”
“What have you found out?”
“The ship is not in ideal condition. It was leaking neutron radiation from an improperly fixed backup reactor, and its gravitic lens drive was operating twenty percent below optimal.”
“What does that suggest?”
“That the vessel was being held together via improvised repairs.”
“Would a quantity of korovite aid in repairing the gravitic lens drive?”
“Without a doubt, but korovite in unfinished form is almost impossible to come across in the current empire.”
“Except on Atlantis.” Minu told her. “That was what the Squeen were there for.” She told her daughter how much of the material they'd seen being prepared.
“That is enough of the element to repair many dozens of drives.”
“What about huge ships like the ones the T'Chillen employ?”
“Even that big. Korovite is a catalyst for channeling gravitic energy. It does not require a large amount even for a massive drive. The quantities are not commensurate with the size of the drive.”
“Then why would their drive be failing? Is our drive going to wear out soon?”
“Highly unlikely. For a drive to deteriorate to the level of the one on the stealth frigate would require many thousands of years of use. It is the reason raw korovite is rare, it is not used as a repair component. It is used in substantial quantities in the construction of ships. More often the vessel has long outlived its useful life before the korovite wears out.”
Minu nodded and smiled. She'd learned a lot about the Squeen today. A lot about why they seemed to haunt the junkpiles, and how they could move around so effectively without notice. More importantly, she thought she knew where they lived now.
As she floated, she noted their course through space, plotted with a glowing blue line on a small secondary screen. She squinted at the display, her mind recreating the map she'd first saw Lilith display. “That's not the same location you first showed me for the tactical jump.”
“You are mistaken.”
“No, I'm not.” She craned her head to see where Lilith was poised like a fish swimming through the ocean, her hands gesturing inside fields of flashing script. “The star patterns around the jump location were distinctive.”
She was familiar with the ship’s systems and they responded to her. shereached out and created her own script control, what she called a command box. Manipulating the icons created a mirrored image to the galaxy map with its blue course. This one was several parsecs off from the one Lilith was displaying. “This is where you said we would jump before.”
“There are spatial distortions in the region of the first choice,” Lilith spoke without looking at her mother. “I neglected to mention. It is some sort of gravity flux from an ancient neutron star. I had to adjust the plans.”
“I see.”
“Good.”
“What I don't understand is why you are lying to me.”
Lilith's head jerked slightly, but she wouldn't look at Minu. “If the tactical drive were at the mercy of gravity distortions, it would be useless inside a star system. You explained pretty succinctly that the drive would be used to deploy warships deep into a star system, penetrating any defenses in outsystem and allowing the ships to attack from behind enemy lines.”
Lilith continued what she was doing without comment.
“Are you going to look at me?”
“There is no reason.”
“Then explain this lie.”
“I cannot.”
“Lilith, I am your mother, talk to me?” When the girl didn't respond Minu pushed off an invisible forcefield and floated over in front of her daughter. There were tears floating in Lilith’s eyes and a pained look on her face. “What's wrong?”
“I'm scared!” Lilith cried out, the displays around her snapping off and her body curling into a ball. Minu moved closer and put her arms around the girl. At first she stiffened, but then slowly she unfolded, and into her mother’s arms.
It was a new experience for Minu, and she felt more afraid herself than parental. This young woman had shown a complete lack of remorse in killing before and now she'd completely broken down at the idea of a glorified trip through a Portal. Or was there more to it? Then Minu realized, Lilith had never been through a Portal before!
Lilith cried on her mother’s shoulder for several minutes, using the conveniently absorbent Chosen uniform to sop up the tears that wouldn't fall. Finally her sobs began to diminish.
“I'm sorry I lied, I just didn't know how to handle the feelings.”
“You've never been afraid before, how come now?”
“I really don't know. I've just been feeling different. I get angry for no reason, and now I'm afraid for no reason.”
“Oh,” Minu said, suddenly concerned.
“These feelings are distracting as well. I was confused in how to handle them, then the anxiety I am feeling from the upcoming tactical drive jump.”
“Can you find a way to handle them?”
“I don't know how.”
“We'll be here for you. Me, your father, your friends.” Minu smiled and stroked her daughter’s hair. “We need you, and believe in you. Do you know that?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, we'll leave it at that for now.” She glanced at the main map as Lilith reached out and manipulated script. The course returned to the original. “Will you be okay when we are ready to jump?”
Lilith looked at the map and then at her mother. Minu could see a tiny shiver run up her back. “I would appreciate if you could be here with me?”
Minu smiled and took her daughter in her arms again. “There is no where I would rather be. Do you want Aaron here too?”
“I'd like this to be just between you and me. Mother and daughter?”
“Okay.”
Chapter 29
April 17th, 534 AE (subjective)
Deep Space, Galactic Frontier
It was four hours later when Minu floated in the little CIC with Lilith as the Kaatan precipitated into normal space, quickly slowing below light speed and coming to a relative stop. There were no stars for five light-years in any direction. Lilith admitted there was nothing in the protocol that suggested it was any safer to use the tactical drive in such an extreme deep space void, but it made her less nervous.
“Do you want me to do anything?” Minu asked her, floating a meter to one side.
“Not right now,
” the thin girl, the ship's combat intelligence replied, all business just then, “I need to concentrate. Minu nodded and waited. The chamber went completely dark for a moment then a pair of script ports appeared, Lilith's hands dancing in them. The dim blue glow of the flickering script characters illuminated her face frozen in a mask of concentration.
In the space before her appeared a circular shape, reminiscent of a regular Portal. Familiar script symbols came alive along its perimeter, instantly familiar to Minu in the back of her mind. Just like she unlocked the rigged Portal on Sunshine, Lilith reached out and began manipulating the script.
Minu watched for a minute, her mind effortlessly processing what she was seeing. Unlike a lot of the programming and piloting of the Kaatan, this made sense to her. Up to a point. Lilith was programming a destination, not unlike you could manually do with a Portal (if you knew the script).
But unlike a regular Portal, the destination was a dizzying complex coordinate. As she entered the destination, Lilith's eyes were squeezed to mere slits and perspiration popped out on her forehead.
Finally, she sighed and moved away from the simulated Portal. “Done,” she said simply. The Portal disappeared and the wall of the CIC showed a view outside the ship. Darkness and pinpoints of starlight were all that could be seen, until some of the stars began to move.
In moments a pattern began to form, a circle of stars seemed to be stretching and swirling. Minu gasped as the stars stretched and spun faster and faster until they became a gut wrenching kaleidoscope.
Lilith's hand reached out and Minu was instantly there.
“Are you sure it's safe?” Minu asked.
“No,” was the simple reply. “We are at the mercy of the Weavers, and my ability to navigate. The parameters of the programming have thousands of variables, and some of them are beyond my understanding.”
“Then how do you know it was the right information?”