Seeu would not survive the Queen’s displeasure. After the Grand Marshall was gone, the only likely course of action would be to conduct a siege and starve out the Star Devils. But what if they could indeed send their troops across vast distances in the blink of an eye? The Kingdom was already reeling; it would not take much more before a general revolt destroyed the very fabric of the realm. All this death and destruction – and over what? Fear of the change the outsiders were bringing to the Kingdom? Looking back on his own actions, Eereen faced the realization that he might have caused irreparable damage to the very traditions and culture he had been trying to protect.
He did not sleep at all that night.
The next morning, the weary magistrate abased himself in front of the Queen, along with the assembled courtiers. No military officers were present other than the Grand Marshall and the captain of the Royal Guard detachment, a gaunt officer Eereen did not recognize. After the failures of the past weeks, the sight of military uniforms had become displeasing to Her Supreme Majesty.
“What say you, Seeu Teenu?” the Queen spoke after the courtly rituals had been followed. The omission of the soldier’s title did not go unnoticed, and the courtiers nearer the Grand Marshall subtly moved away from him, lest his disgrace prove to be contagious.
“I say that continuing the war against the Foreigner’s Enclave is no longer an advisable course of action – if it ever was.”
Courtiers gasped and fanned themselves in shock at the insult to the Queen.
“You dare question our decision?”
Eereen had never seen the Queen look so angry. Seeu would likely be nailed to a table and bled to death right in front of the court.
“If defeat in battle is certain, then one must not fight, even if the Queen wishes otherwise,” Seeu Teenu said.
“The only certain thing is your death, for defying your Queen!”
“I think not.”
The Guardsmen in the Audience Room leveled their rifles – towards the throne and the assembled courtiers.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“I anticipated this moment, and replaced the Guards with my men. Perhaps you would have done better had you paid enough attention to your servants to recognize their faces. You might have realized that the new captain of the guard is Colonel Neen, formerly of First Army and a true servant of Kirosha.”
The Queen gasped, clearly at a loss for words. Eereen looked around for a way out, and saw more Guards – or rather, more Army men in Guard uniforms – enter the audience chamber, blocking all exits. False Guard Captain Neen blinked pure hatred towards the Queen and the assembled courtiers and magistrates before him. His men looked equally resolute.
The Marshall had been truly busy last night.
Eeren’s legs grew rubbery, and he swayed on his feet. He refused to believe his fortune could collapse so swiftly and completely. He had put thousands to death with a stroke of a pen and without giving the matter a second thought. That he might one day share their fate had never seriously occurred to him, not with the visceral understanding that overwhelmed him at this moment.
“If a ruler would lead her people to slaughter and defeat, that ruler must fall. That too is Ka’at,” Seeu Teenu told the Queen before turning to his men and making a curt gesture.
Twenty rifles went off in unison.
Year 163 AFC, D Plus Thirty-Three
Fromm opened his eyes.
Heather was sitting next to his bed; she smiled at him.
“Awake at last,” she said. “Took you long enough.”
“How long?”
“About five days. Five eventful days.”
“I could query my imp, but I have a headache and I really don’t want to check my messages yet. Will you brief me on what I missed?”
“Straight to business, eh? I can appreciate that. We have an extended cease-fire in place. There’s been a major political realignment in the Kingdom. The Queen’s dead, and her only surviving son – the other three all suffered unfortunate accidents on the same day Her Supreme Majesty died – has been designated as the Heir Apparent, under the regency of former High Marshall Seeu Teenu. The Regent has repudiated the Queen’s decision to attack the Enclave, and claims she fell prey to bad advice from the Preserver faction and their ‘pet monster from beyond the stars.’ He shipped us the head of said monster, inside a gift-wrapped box, by the way. A sign of good will, he said. It was indeed a Lamprey. Hard to tell what killed him, with just the head to autopsy, but my guess is he was hacked apart with assorted chopping implements.”
“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
“They’ve restored water service and food deliveries to the Enclave. They even sent us the fabber they salvaged and its remaining feedstock. It’s not much, but it helped us care for the wounded.”
“Seeu is a wily bastard. I’m never going to forget or forgive what he did, sending children off to die, but I have to respect the son of a bitch,” Fromm said. “Although he must be hoping like hell that the next ship that shows up is one of ours.”
“Yeah. He really burned that bridge when he beheaded the Lamprey secret agent. Then again, the Marshall has been studying Starfarer history, and he realizes now that the Lhan Arkh wouldn’t make good allies. He claims he never wanted war, but was just following orders.”
“I think I’ve heard that line before,” he said. “Maybe one day he’ll get to recite it in front of a firing squad.”
“We’ll see. Not sure what we’ll do with him, not that anybody is asking for my opinion. Above my pay grade. Oh, forgot to add: we got a QE-telegram about the battle at the Paulus System.”
“Way to bury the fucking lead! What happened?”
Heather made a ‘V’ sign with her fingers.
Fromm grinned.
Year 163 AFC, D Plus Thirty-Seven
“Are you sure about this?” President Jensen asked Timothy for the third and hopefully last time.
“Yes, Elder. I will not abandon these people.”
He glanced up at the sky, where the American transport ship tasked with evacuating all Starfarers on Jasper-Five floated in low planetary orbit. A flotilla had arrived after the combined American and Wyrashat fleets had defeated the Lamprey’s attack. It had been a tough battle from all accounts, but this corner of the galaxy had been secured.
“The State Department has made it clear that anyone who stays behind does so at their own risk,” Elder Jensen said. “I feel terrible about leaving myself, but I have to see to the welfare of everyone in the mission.”
“I understand. But they need me, the Jersh Caste. Five thousand of them at least, possibly twice that number. They can’t stay here, and the US won’t take them in. They need me.”
“And I will do what I can to help,” the mission president promised. He already had done a great deal. The refugees would be ferried to a distant island chain that hard never been inhabited. Several fabbers would be left with them, along with metric tons of Kirosha weapons and equipment. There, they would be safe to learn, build and seek their own destiny.
Timothy knew it would get lonely, being the only human there. But after the war was over, other missionaries would come. Until then, he would be happy building and helping his fellow Saints, only fighting if absolutely necessary.
It would be a good life.
* * *
Lisbeth Zhang enjoyed her final dinner on Jasper-Five in the company of Heather McClintock, who no longer wore a Navy uniform now that her spookier skills were back in demand. Heather’s gyrene boyfriend was too busy doing paperwork to join them.
“It’ll be nice to go home again, back in CONUS,” Lisbeth said after savoring the local version of wine, which didn’t half bad and lit a warm fire inside her. “Even if I’m headed towards a demotion or even a court-martial.”
“I somehow doubt it. The demotion and court-martial bits, that is. Everyone involved here is putting a good word in for you. Peter’s letter has you all but walking on w
ater.”
“Ground-pounder shit. Out in the black, where it counts, I got my ships blown up.”
“We’ll see,” Heather said after taking a sip of her drink. “My guess is, we are going to need every trained officer we have.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Things went quiet for a bit while they considered the situation. Lisbeth had a better appreciation than most people of how bad things were. There weren’t enough hulls to cover every possible front in the coming war, and building new ones would take time. The Lampreys had seized several major warp nodes, giving them the initiative. They were going to take losses, a lot more than they already had.
All we have done is awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.
An enemy had said that about the US, many decades before First Contact. Things were different now, however. Filled with resolve the US might be, but if it was a giant, it was surrounded by other, taller giants.
“Cheer up,” Heather said. “It’s not that bad.”
“It kind of is, but fretting about it won’t help. Where do you think you’ll end up, oh, alleged State Department hack?”
“Heh. I’m hoping I get a crack at the Galactic Imperium, myself.”
“Better you than me. Their ships are massive; I wouldn’t want to trade broadsides with their battlecruisers, even if they gave me a battleship. Forget about their capital ships.”
“On the other hand, they are the most decent of the bunch. And they are a federation of different species. Which means there are a bunch of fracture points to exploit, if one is crafty and cunning.”
“Not my kind of thing. I’m into fields of fire and sensor sweeps and blasting the enemy into floating debris.”
“It’s going to take all kinds of things to win the war.”
If we can, Lisbeth left unsaid.
* * *
Shipboard again. The old regiment was being put together at New Parris. Russell would be glad to see some of the old bastards from his battalion. Some more than others, of course, but even the assholes would be better company than any fucking ETs. When lasers and gravitons were flying, the only people you could count on were your fellow Marines.
He’d also be happy to see the whores at New Parris. He hadn’t spent any more time with Ruddy women even after the ceasefire. He’d killed too many locals to ever feel safe among their kind; most of those whores must have lost a brother or cousin or father in the fighting, and you never knew if one of them might decide slicing off a Marine’s balls would do for payback.
Might as well make the most of his time on Leatherneck Planet, because they wouldn’t stay there for long. This war was going to be a whooper. No less than four ET gangs were involved, making it one of the biggest shindigs in recent galactic history. To Russell, war was a time for opportunity. Lots of fighting, which he didn’t mind, and plenty of angles to play; a smart and enterprising fellow stood to build up a nice nest egg. Well, he might if he didn’t blow it on whores and booze, but most of the time he figured they were worth it.
He looked at the people around the table: Gonzo, Doobie and three spacers who’d joined in the game. The spacers had a lot of money burning holes in their pockets, and they couldn’t bluff for shit.
This was going to be fun.
* * *
Fromm watched Jasper-Five receding into the dark as the transport headed towards its optimal warp jump coordinates. Heather was in the transport as well. The Powers that Be had arranged for a week’s leave in Lahiri for both of them. Fromm suspected former RSO Rockwell had been behind that unusually-kind gesture. They would make the most of it.
After that, they would be going their separate ways. Once his leave was over, he would head to New Parris to meet up with Charlie Company, his new command. Third Platoon would be waiting for him there as well; he reminded himself not to treat it as his personal unit. It was time to stop thinking like a lieutenant.
Heather would be going to Earth. Same war, different assignments. They’d made no promises to each other. It was the smart thing to do. They lived in a universe full of broken promises.
Jasper-Five disappeared from view. Fromm idly wondered what Regent Seeu would do with his new kingdom. The US had let him keep his job, at least for now. The bastard would probably surprise everyone.
Not his problem, though. America had its own problems. The biggest war it had ever fought was at hand. Twelve million citizens had died; his desperate battle at Jasper-Five had been a tiny victory, one of a handful outposts that hadn’t been overrun and slaughtered during the month-long period that history would refer to as the Days of Infamy. America, the Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere and the Wyrashat Empire faced the Lampreys, Vipers and Galactic Imperium, three of the oldest and wealthiest polities in known space. The odds weren’t good.
Fromm shrugged. They couldn’t be worse than they’d been in Kirosha.
The ghosts of the dead awaited for him in warp space.
Dramatis Personae
Brackenhurst, Timothy: Civilian missionary, Latter-Day Saints.
Carruthers, Anthony: Captain/Admiral, US Navy
Crow, Howard: Owner/operators of the civilian freighter Alan Dean Foster.
Donnelly, Lateesha: Chief Petty Officer, US Navy
Edison, Russell (‘Russet’): Lance Corporal, US Warp Marine Corps
Eereen Leep: Magistrate-Without-Portfolio, Kingdom of Kirosha
Fromm, Peter: Captain, US Warp Marine Corps
Givens, Sondra: Commander, US Navy
Gonzaga, Raymond (“Gonzo’): Private First Class, US Warp Marine Corps
Grace-Under-Pressure: King-Captain, Hrauwah War Fleet
Hamblin, Hiram (‘Nacle’): Private First Class, US Warp Marine Corps
Hewer, Albert P.: President, United Stars of America
Keller, Tyson: Chief of Staff, United Stars of America
Llewellyn, Javier: Ambassador, US State Department
McClintock, Heather T.: Deputy Charge D’Affaires, CIA covert operative.
Neen Reu: Colonel, Kingdom of Kirosha Army
Norbert, Janice: Deputy Chief of Mission, US State Department
Obregon, Miguel: Gunnery Sergeant, US Warp Marine Corps
Rockwell, Mario: Regional Security Officer, US State Department
Ruiz, Jonah: Civilian missionary, Latter-Day Saints.
Seeu Teenu: Grand Marshall, Kingdom of Kirosha.
Virosha the Eighth: High Queen, Kingdom of Kirosha
Zhang, Lisbeth: Lieutenant Commander, US Navy
GLOSSARY
AFC: After First Contact. The new US calendar has Year Zero beginning on the day the Risshah bombed the Earth, killing some four billion people.
Blaster: Slang magnetically-propelled slug-throwers that usually fire plasma-explosive bullets. Also see Infantry Weapon Mk 3.
Biosphere Classes: The four known forms of life in the galaxy, which appear to descend from four primordial biology groupings that somehow spread throughout known space. Class One. Two and Three Biospheres are carbon-based but each has a distinct biochemical makeup that make them incompatible with each other. Class Four entities are silicon-based and can only survive under environments other classes find uninhabitable.
Bloomie: Thermal-pulse weapon of mass destruction, which generates a distinctive force field-contained ‘blooming onion’ shape that persists for several hours. Designed to minimize damage to the ecosystem, it generates heat without producing radiation or other effects, and the force fields radiate most of the heat beyond the planet’s atmosphere after reducing everything within the area of effect to molten slag.
Bubblehead: slang for Navy spacers, from the shape of the ‘astronaut’ helmets issued during the early years after First Contact.
Dabrah: Pal, friend. Short for ‘dudebro.’
Domass: Stupid, idiot. Contraction of the words ‘dumb’ and ‘ass.’
ET: Extraterrestrial, common vernacular for aliens.
Eet, Eets: Slang version of ET;
both terms are used interchangeably.
Full Goldie/Goldilocks Planet: A world with conditions nearly identical to Earth’s (95% or higher on all major categories, including oxygen/nitrogen mix, gravity, and average temperatures).
Gacks: Slang and derogatory term for the Greater Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere.
Galactic Imperium: The largest known Starfarer polity, and the only one comprising several member species of roughly equal power.
Greater Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere (GACS): A federation comprising China, India, Russia and an assortment of Asian countries and former Soviet Republics. Other than the United Stars, it’s the only human polity with a presence beyond the Solar System. Commonly referred to as the Pan-Asians or the Gacks.
Hrauwah: Starfaring species and early US ally. Pseudo-canines with arboreal adaptations, the Hrauwah are social obligate carnivores vaguely resembling a cross between a dog and raccoon. Also see Puppies.
Imp(s): Short for ‘implant,’ a catchall term for the numerous bionic systems most humans use for communications, first-aid, protection and entertainment. Imp services include: full biomedical monitors, virtual reality displays, mapping and location apps, targeting and sensory arrays, among many others.
Infantry Weapon, Mark Three (IW-3): The standard issue personal arm of the Marine Corps, a dual-barreled grenade launcher and assault rifle, firing 4mm explosive plasma rounds and 15mm airmobile ordnance grenades.
Iwo: Slang for standard-issue Infantry Weapons.
Kirosha: A continent-spanning kingdom on the planet Jasper-Five; the same term is also used to refer to the inhabitants of the kingdom and its capital city.
Lampreys: Slang term for the Lhan Arkh species.
Decisively Engaged (Warp Marine Corps Book 1) Page 33