by Ryk Brown
“You didn’t even know me as Connor Tuplo,” Nathan pointed out.
“No, but Marcus and Josh did. And it worried them enough that they told me.”
“Since when did Marcus and Josh become experts in the personality traits of effective leaders?” Nathan wondered.
“Jessica also expressed concern that the Connor side of you might be a problem, as did General Telles.”
“What about Cameron?” Nathan asked halfheartedly.
“Cameron is still not convinced that you are the same Nathan she once knew.”
“Yet, she was willing to risk her career, and possibly her very life…correction; the lives of her crew, in the hopes that I am the same man?”
“I suspect she did so because she felt it was the right thing to do, despite her doubts, which is exactly what you would do. And, because she knew if she didn’t, that I would,” Vladimir added with a grin. “Do not misunderstand, Nathan. I believe you are the same man, and I suspect the others do, as well.”
Nathan sighed, looking away.
“What is it?” Vladimir wondered, noticing the concerned look on his friend’s face.
Nathan looked at his friend for what seemed an eternity. “I’m not the same man, Vlad,” he finally said.
“We know, Nathan. Your experiences as Connor Tuplo have undoubtedly changed you a little…”
“It’s not that,” Nathan interrupted. “I mean, yes, those experiences have changed me somewhat, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about what the cloning process has done to me.”
“What do you mean?” Vladimir asked. For the first time since he had sat down, he actually stopped eating.
“They did something to my mind. At first, it was just that I could remember everything with great clarity.”
“You mean your memories…of before?”
“No. I first noticed it when I started studying the Aurora’s specs from her last overhaul. The one that occurred after my death. Every page I looked at, every word I read, I’m able to recall it all in complete detail, without even trying.”
“And you attribute this to the cloning process?”
“I spoke to Doctor Sato about it. The Nifelmians had to genetically modify their brains over generations in order to make them work properly with their technology. Photographic memory is a side effect of that genetic restructuring.”
“That sounds like a good thing,” Vladimir said.
“Yeah, you’d think so. But it takes some getting used to. But there’s more. I’ve always been able to size things up quicker than others. I’ve always been able to see ‘the big picture’ in my head, but my own sense of ethics and morality was quite often in opposition to the things I knew I had to do. That’s why I was—how did you put it—whiny? My intellect was at odds with my sense of right and wrong…or at least what I thought others expected me to consider right and wrong. Now, I find myself having to make an effort to factor those same ethics and morality into my decisions.”
“And that bothers you?” Vladimir asked.
“In a way, yes. Should it be an effort? Should I have to remind myself to do so? And what happens if I forget to?”
“Do not worry, I will be the first to remind you if you forget. And if I do not, I am quite sure that Cameron will,” Vladimir promised as he continued eating.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Nathan agreed. As he continued with his meal, he wondered how Vladimir would react if he told him about the other things that were different about him now.
* * *
“I take it you have read the reports from our operatives on Kohara?” Lord Dusahn asked his trusted military advisor.
“I have,” General Hesson confirmed as he strolled through the garden with his leader.
“Does this news concern you?”
“It is but a handful of gunships, my lord. They pose little threat.”
“Except that their presence will require steps to protect our frigates,” Lord Dusahn pointed out. “That will limit our area of control.”
“Marginally, at best,” the general insisted. “We can still manage the entire Pentaurus cluster quite easily, and the cluster is the only thing that matters at this point. That is where the industrial and technological infrastructure lies. Expansion will come, in time.”
“The reason we took the Pentaurus cluster was to expand the Dusahn Empire,” Lord Dusahn reminded the general. “Those gunships will give the rebels the ability to hide out of our immediate reach, and to strike at will.”
“They lack the firepower to take down our larger ships.”
“But their attacks will embolden the populations, inspiring them to resist Dusahn rule.”
“I think you are overestimating their influence, my lord.”
“To do otherwise invites failure,” Lord Dusahn warned.
“It is unlikely they have the manpower to crew and maintain the stolen gunships,” General Hesson pointed out. “It will take them some time to train new crews to operate and support their new assets. In the meantime, we can take steps to protect ourselves against them.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“We must send more operatives out to surrounding systems,” the general recommended. “Not only those of the Pentaurus sector, but to all neighboring sectors, as well. These rebels cannot operate without support. They need people, food, medical supplies, raw materials, equipment… They will seek help from worlds beyond what they consider to be our threat reach, yet close enough that those they seek help from will feel compelled to do so for their own sakes. We may not currently be able to reach these worlds with our warships, but we can reach them with one of the jump-capable cargo ships we have captured, since many of them have multi-jump capabilities.”
“And what will these operatives do?” Lord Dusahn wondered.
“Form alliances, assassinate those who support the rebels in order to spread fear, whatever is necessary,” General Hesson explained. “Our operatives are quite adept at such things. We risk no assets in doing so, and we keep our warships here, in the cluster, protecting our new industrial base.”
Lord Dusahn continued to stroll through the garden, considering the general’s words. “The Dusahn have always been known as legendary warriors…the fiercest of all the Jung castes. The other castes all paled by comparison.” He turned to look at the general beside him. “Did you know at the battle of Dormahgees, not a single caste was willing to commit to the battle until our ships had arrived?” He looked to the sky, as if he could see the ships above him. “Massive warships, with dark gray hulls trimmed with bloodred and gold.” Lord Dusahn stopped walking for a moment, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply.
“I am aware of our legacy,” General Hesson reminded his leader.
Lord Dusahn opened his eyes again, looking around at the gardens, and at the distant mountain ranges beyond the palace grounds. “I can see why they chose to settle this world. It has a unique beauty. Stark; unforgiving. The addition of such landscaping as this, of their architecture… A beautiful contrast, don’t you think?”
“Indeed.”
“The Dusahn have never been one to resort to subterfuge, General,” Lord Dusahn stated. “Such is the way of lesser warriors.”
“Perhaps, that is why the Dusahn were exiled,” General Hesson suggested.
Lord Dusahn looked at the general with disapproval. “I can always count on your honesty, can’t I.”
“Always, my lord.”
Lord Dusahn smiled. “I suppose even the fiercest warrior must know when subterfuge is a better option than brute force.”
“Battles are won by those who fight,” the general said. “Wars are won by those who think.”
“Esian Dusahn?”
“One of the greatest leaders our clan has ever known. Someday, I expect you shall outshine him in the eyes of our descendants.”
Lord Dusahn sighed, continuing his stroll. “Expand the scope of our covert operatives. I want them on ever
y industrialized world within five hundred light years of Takara, no matter how small.”
“What actions would you like them to take, my lord?” the general wondered.
“Intelligence gathering, and establishing contacts. No aggressive actions are yet to be taken. We need to be sure of what we are doing.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
“Meanwhile, we must strengthen our defenses, so that our warships are free to move about,” Lord Dusahn said. “When will the Teyentah be ready?”
“If all our resources are dedicated to her completion, perhaps…thirty days,” the general replied.
“How many large, jump-capable cargo ships have we captured?”
“Six, my lord,” the general replied.
“And how long would it take to convert them into warships? Nothing fancy, just basic point-defenses, long-range missile launchers, and heavy shielding, of course.”
“If work on the Teyentah is suspended, perhaps the same. But they will not have as much firepower as the Teyentah.”
“Heavy fighter production is highly automated, requiring limited personnel.”
“But considerable raw materials,” the general warned.
“Which are abundant in the cluster,” Lord Dusahn added. “We will build more heavy fighters to fill their decks. Perhaps as many as fifty per vessel. That will make them quite formidable, will it not?”
“Indeed it shall, my lord,” the general agreed. “Six instead of one. A wise trade.”
“I am pleased you approve,” Lord Dusahn replied.
“I shall make the arrangements immediately.” General Hesson bowed respectfully, turning and departing the way they had come. Lord Dusahn looked up at the brilliant sky, taking in another deep breath. “Yes, this is the world from which the Dusahn will return to glory.”
* * *
Cameron stood just outside the starboard large-transfer airlock, which had become the Seiiki’s parking spot when aboard the Aurora. As the doors opened, she could see Abby and her family being escorted down the Seiiki’s aft cargo ramp by Dalen Voss. Cameron had seen Abby a few months ago, but had not seen her children in more than seven years, and the difference was surprising.
The captain put on her best smile. It wasn’t an expression that she wore often, but she genuinely liked and respected Abigail Sorenson. Abby, on the other hand, did not appear as pleased. Cameron had no doubt the unexpected journey had been a difficult one for Abby and her family. Once again, they had been asked to leave everything they knew, quite possibly for a purpose they didn’t fully understand.
“Abby,” Cameron greeted.
“Captain Taylor,” Abby replied as she led her family away from the Seiiki’s cargo ramp. “It is good to see you again.”
“I only wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Of course.” Abby turned toward her family. “You remember my husband, Erik, and our children, Nikolas and Kirsten.”
“A pleasure to see you all again,” Cameron said. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”
“Not really,” Abby replied. “Marcus and Neli filled us in on the way here. A heck of a story.”
“Yes, it is,” Cameron agreed.
“Sir, I have orders to escort the Sorensons to medical,” a med-tech announced from behind.
“Of course,” Cameron said. “If you will all follow this man to medical, so Doctor Chen can clear you.”
“Melei is on board?”
“Yes,” Cameron replied. “Another long story.” Cameron turned back to Abby’s family. “We appreciate the sacrifice you are all making, and I promise we will do everything possible to keep you all safe, and comfortable.”
“Not like we had a choice,” Erik said as he led his children past the captain.
Cameron looked at Abby. “What was that about?”
“Jessica threatened to knock him out and drag him here, if he didn’t come voluntarily.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s alright,” Abby assured her. “I understand why she did it. Unfortunately, Erik doesn’t. And it will take some time for Nikolas and Kirsten to come around. They were all quite happy where we were.”
“I take it you weren’t,” Cameron said, noticing her tone.
“I enjoyed my work,” Abby explained. “I just didn’t care for the people I was working for, or their agenda.” She looked at Cameron. “Are you guys sure about all of this?”
“As sure as we can be, considering. But I know how you feel. Believe me, it wasn’t easy for me to throw away my career, hijack my own ship, and fly off to the PC. But, it was Nathan…”
Abby finally smiled in agreement. “I’d better join them.”
“We’ll catch up later,” Cameron said. “Before you transfer to the Mystic.”
“The Mystic?”
“The ship where you and your family will be living.”
“I’m not going to be working here, aboard the Aurora?”
“Actually, where you’ll be working has yet to be determined,” Cameron admitted. “However, you and your family will live aboard the Mystic Empress. Trust me, you all will be a lot more comfortable there, and likely safer.”
“Of course,” Abby said. “Until later.”
Cameron watched Abby follow her family toward the forward exit from the main hangar bay.
“He is not too keen on all of this,” Marcus said as he stepped off the cargo ramp.
“So I heard,” Cameron replied, turning back around to face him. “How was the flight back?”
“Easy, but long and boring. I like being able to move about the ship a lot better. Being cooped up in that flight deck for three days sucked. Josh and Loki can have it.”
“Well, you all deserve some downtime,” Cameron told him.
“Have you heard from any of them?” Neli asked, after coming down the ramp behind Marcus.
“No, but I didn’t expect to, either,” Cameron replied. “Assuming they managed to pull it off, they should be here in about ten hours.”
“Guess there’s not much to do but wait, then,” Marcus grumbled.
“And eat,” Dalen added, coming down the ramp behind them.
The three of them looked at him.
“What? We’ve been eating the same crap for nearly a week, now.”
“Take them to the mess hall, and then get some rest,” Cameron instructed. “Once you’re rested, get the Seiiki ready for her next mission.”
“Any idea what that’s going to be?” Marcus asked.
“I have no idea,” Cameron admitted. “But I’m sure Nathan and Jessica have something already in mind.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Marcus grumbled.
* * *
Sergeant Krispin Bornet sat in the small, windowless room, his hands secured to the metal table at which he sat. He was relaxed, focused, and without fear. It was not his first time in this type of room, and undoubtedly, it would not be his last.
The sergeant had been incarcerated for nearly four years. In that time, he had been transferred six times, for fear that he might find a way to escape. Military prisons had not been a priority for the rebuilding efforts of Earth, and those facilities that had survived the Jung bombardments were outdated, and in many cases still suffering their original damage. With the people of Earth in full support of the buildup of their military defenses, there simply weren’t that many military prisoners to house. The Jung officers who had been captured during the war had long been returned to Nor-Patri, and the few who had chosen to stay on Earth had become willing collaborators with the Alliance. Closely watched collaborators, yes, but collaborators, nonetheless.
The few hundred total prisoners who were housed in the handful of military prisons scattered about the planet were generally nothing more than soldiers who were unable to follow orders, or had committed crimes while in the service of the Earth Defense Force, and the Alliance.
And then there was Sergeant Bornet, whose only crime was love. Love
of the wrong person.
Krispin Bornet had suffered endless interrogations during his incarceration. Countless men and women, each of them seeking some crack, some chink, some foothold that would lead them to the information they sought. What they did not realize, or simply refused to admit, was that the young sergeant had no information to give them; for he had done nothing wrong. He had not shared any secrets, not committed any crimes, not disobeyed a single order, save for the one, which he had no ability to do otherwise. In four long years, he had seen every angle used to try to pry nonexistent information from him. No tact surprised him these days.
Until now.
There was a buzzing sound, followed by a clank, and then the metal door before him swung open. An elderly man, confident and fit looking, entered the room. Unlike most the sergeant met with in such rooms, this man was not wearing a uniform. Instead, he was wearing a business suit.
“Are you supposed to be my lawyer, or something?” the sergeant inquired in a sarcastic drawl.
The elderly man in the suit said nothing as he took a seat across the table from Sergeant Bornet. The metal door behind him closed and locked as the man placed his briefcase on the table and opened it. He pulled out a small electronic device and set it on the table before them. He pressed a button on the center of the device, causing a green light to appear.
“Who are you?” the sergeant asked, becoming a tad impatient.
The elderly man looked at the sergeant, and took a breath. “My name is unimportant,” the elderly man replied as he pulled a data pad out of his briefcase. He activated the pad, then placed it on the table, sliding it under the sergeant’s shackled right hand. “Please place your hand on the data pad.”
“Why?”
“So I can verify your identity.”
Sergeant Bornet laughed. “Seriously?” When the elderly man did not respond, the sergeant shrugged and did as instructed.
The elderly man pulled the data pad away, checking its results before putting it away. Finally, he looked at the sergeant. “Sergeant Krispin Bornet, you have been charged with fraternization with a known Jung spy. Do you deny this charge?”
“I do not deny having an affair with her,” the sergeant replied, annoyance in his tone. “I only deny ever knowing that she was a Jung spy.”