by Adam Gaffen
“Thank you, L-T.”
“Resume patrol.”
Muted groans, but no actual complaints, reached Locksmith’s comm and she smiled faintly. “Only ninety minutes to go.”
“GODDESS, IT’S GOOD to be home, even if it is oh-dark-thirty.”
Technically they weren’t home yet; they were about to enter the outer edges of the Oort Cloud, three light-years from Earth, and so were still over two hours away. But the Cloud was regarded as the outer boundary of the Solar System, so close enough.
Cass yawned at Alley over her cacao.
“Oh three thirty is a wholly unnatural time,” she said, taking a hearty swallow. “Tell me again why we’re both here?”
“I’m here because it’s my duty as Captain. You’re here because you’re my XO and I’m going to make you do all the actual work.”
“Ah.”
Alley took a good look at Cass. Her responses were usually much more pungent than a simple ‘ah’.
“Rough night?”
“A little. The girls didn’t want to go to bed early; they don’t have to be up until later, so why should they go to sleep just because I have to? At least I think that was their logic. And then I didn’t sleep well. Eager to get home.”
Alley nodded her understanding. For the first time in her life her partner was with her shipboard, so the problem of leaving them behind was, well, left behind. But she’d spent years in the Imperium Navy and had experienced the separation Cass was going through many times.
She said softly, “It doesn’t help, but soon, Cass.”
Cass gave a slight smile. “Aye, Ma’am.”
In a more accustomed tone Alley said, “Bridge is yours, XO. I’m going to make sure my paperwork’s in order. Call me if you need me.”
Not quite two hours later Alley emerged from her Ready Room.
“Status, XO?”
“Down to warp two, currently just over thirty seconds from arrival and about to pass the orbit of Mars.”
“Excellent. Communication established with Njord?”
“Yes, Ma’am. All routine, but...” Cass let the word trail off.
“But?”
“Something’s up, Captain. Far too much activity in-system.”
“They’ve been updating us,” Alley countered.
“Something else. Something they haven’t told us yet.”
“Ten seconds,” said Chastain from the Helm. Night shift was hers, as Third Officer, but she’d happily relinquished the Conn early, concentrating on her role piloting the ship.
“Weapons and shields ready,” said Kay at Tactical.
“And exiting warp in two, one, exit.”
“Sensors read all-clear,” said Kay. “Position, two kiloklicks anti-orbit from Njord.”
“Good job, Bri,” Cass said. “Set course for home.”
“Captain, signal from the Admiral,” Minerva said. “Requested you and Commander Cassidy only.”
Eyebrow arched, Alley said, “Transfer to my Ready Room. Lieutenant Chastain, you have the Conn.”
The message from Kendra was short and devastating. “Cris killed by Dent, plot by Artemis, Dent dead too. More details when you’re aboard.”
“Oh, crap,” Cass said, stunned. She’d known Cris for seven years, from their first encounter in OutLook’s New Orleans HQ, recruiting her to help on an unauthorized rescue mission, and through all the subsequent events. She was more than a trusted partner and competent subordinate, she was a friend.
Alley didn’t know her as long but she held a deep regard for the woman’s professionalism and loyalty. She also knew how devastated both her XO and her Admiral must be by the news and struggled to find the right words.
“Cass,” she started, but Aiyana held up her hand to cut her off.
“I know, Alley. And I know we’ll avenge her. I’m simply tired of friends dying.”
All Alley could do was nod.
“Captain, two minutes to docking.”
“Thank you, Minerva.”
They stood.
“Come on,” said Alley. “We’ll find out what Kendra has in store for them soon enough.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
UE Headquarters, Geneva, Switzerland
Stardate 12009.07
Roosevelt Lynch had never had a worse week.
Mya’s death had raised a furor and a security lockdown the likes of which hadn’t been seen in decades. The only detail which saved him was Mya hadn’t logged her fatal visit to his office. Instead she had checked out, officially, for the day. Since he’d known where to go to avoid the active and monitored cameras they hadn’t been caught on video. So, after some rather more perfunctory questioning than he perhaps deserved he was cleared of suspicion.
With Mya out of the way, and her Directorate in chaos, he’d been able to ‘appropriate’ the authority over the HLC project which she’d previously blocked. Now it was simply a matter of convincing HLC to launch it on his schedule, completed or not.
“Director Lynch,” the woman on the other end of the comm was saying. “I realize you can authorize a launch. I’m not arguing the point.”
“Then what is the problem, Ms. Culbertson?”
“The project is incomplete, Director! As things stand, the Orion is simply a plate with a number of half-modified ships sitting atop it.”
“Ms. Culbertson, it has been made perfectly clear to me no further work will be done on this project under any circumstances. Therefore I wish simply to retrieve the property of the United Earth government and hire your company to relocate it.”
“Director, we’re not equipped to relocate property on Earth,” Culbertson began but Lynch cut her off.
“No, no. I want it in orbit, high Earth orbit if possible, but no lower than 2000 kilometers. That is possible, is it not?” He knew full well it was; the Photonic Laser Thrusters which had been built beneath the Orion’s hull plate had been designed to push the entire load into Lunar orbit. Terrestrial orbit shouldn’t be difficult.
“Can I ask what you intend –”
“Ms. Culbertson. I don’t mean to be rude, but when Ms. Cassidy informed the UE your company no longer felt bound by the contract and were relinquishing ownership to the UE, well, you stopped having an interest in what happens next. So my question is simple. Can you lift the Orion to at least 2000 kilometers? Yes or no, please.”
“Yes, we can, but –”
“Very good. How soon?”
“Pardon?”
“It’s not a difficult question, Ms. Culbertson. How soon can you lift? Tomorrow? Next week? When?”
“Ah, I’d have to check the schedules for conflicting lifts.”
“What conflicting? The PLT under the Orion can’t have any other function, so how can there be a schedule conflict?”
Now Culbertson was on firmer ground and she pushed back. “It’s not as simple as flipping a switch, Director. There are power demands and orbital mechanics to consider. If we’re lifting other payloads, and we probably are, we need to have sufficient power and clear skies.”
Lynch could recognize genuine issues when he was confronted with them and decided the best route would be to relent.
“I apologize. Please, check and let me know at your earliest opportunity. Any time is perfectly acceptable, as long as it’s within the next three days.”
For what he needed the Orion to do he actually had been told five days, but he’d been a bureaucrat long enough to know to overstate his demands. The rest of the equipment was already in orbit, after all, and simply needed to be installed.
“Why, no, forget the question. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Ms. Culbertson. A pleasure speaking with you today.”
The comm disconnected halfway through. Probably already looking for guidance from a Cassidy.
It didn’t matter. There was no reason not to lift it. The ships were spaceworthy, just, if you stretched the definition to an object which could hold atmosphere but had no power, weapo
ns, or propulsion systems. But all the other pieces were there, and the hulls were intact. They’d even done the exterior CeeSea coating, which would give some measure of protection against laser fire. He could work from there.
Using Blue Sky he’d pre-positioned a cache of booster rockets. It would be a relatively simple task to attach them to the exterior of the hulls and program their coordinates: the habitat.
Kinetic energy would do the rest.
And if by some chance Njord survived the hulls, he had one last ace up his sleeve.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Admiral’s Quarters, TFS Enterprise; Council Chambers, Artemis City
Stardate 12009.07
The wake had been, well, the best word was probably ‘appropriate’, Cass reflected. Far too much drinking and talking and laughing and reminiscing, with a fair dash of crying and hugs added for texture, and it had ended far too late.
Exactly as Cris would have wanted it.
It had muted the celebration around the Enterprise’s successful return from 40 Eridani, but she actually preferred a low profile. She wasn’t in Starfleet for glory and she knew neither was the Science Division team. There would be plenty enough time for celebration of their achievements later.
Now she had other problems, though.
“No way, Kendra. No. Absolutely not.”
Her wife tapped the gold sunburst on her uniform.
“I don’t care if you’re the Admiral or the Pope or goddamn Santa Claus, no!” She was pleased at how she didn’t raise her voice while hopefully making her point crystal clear.
“They need air support,” Kendra said.
“And we have two starships and a couple dozen Wolves and four dozen Direwolves! One more won’t make any difference!”
“It’s the only way I’m going to get in on the landing party and avenge Cris!” Kendra almost wailed the last words, her true rationale finally emerging. They’d been arguing for a quarter-hour now, at far too early an hour, trying to stay quiet enough not to awaken the girls.
It had started simply enough, Kendra sketching out the plan Whitmore had devised to finally finish the war. When she’d tried to slip past her mention of flying escort for the team to penetrate the Complex, Cass had pounced and the discussion was on in earnest.
Cass pitched her voice low. “She was my friend too. I was the one who roped her into all this, remember? Way back? Don’t I have as much a right to avenge her as you?”
Kendra’s head snapped up to reveal eyes wet with unshed tears.
“You want in on this?”
Cass surprised herself by nodding, but she realized as she did so it was unequivocally true. “I’m tired of this, Kendra. I’ve gone to enough wakes and funerals for five lifetimes. If I can play a part in ending the war and get some measure of payback for Cris, don’t you think I want it? Don’t you think I’ve earned it too?”
“I never thought,” Kendra started, then stopped. “Of course you’ve earned it; I didn’t think you’d want in on another ground assault.”
“I don’t, but I’m also not leaving it to someone else. ‘Support and defend against all enemies,’ remember? The oath?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Well? If this doesn’t prove, first, nobody’s safe and second, we all need to do everything, anything we can to remove this threat? Then nothing will.” Cass dropped her voice again. “You sent us away to keep us safe.”
Kendra opened her mouth to protest but Cass continued on.
“I understand why, and since I’ve had a month to think about things I’ll even say I agree. But, sweetheart, we can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to us, and it’s not fair to those whose wife isn’t running Starfleet.”
“And if we’re both killed?” whispered Kendra.
“If we’re both killed and we eliminated Newling and the Union as a threat for all time? It’s a fair deal, a price we both agreed to pay. It’s no life for our daughters, running away when Newling rattles her sabers. All we’re doing then is teaching them to give in to bullies!”
“This bully has real weapons, Cass!”
“Which only makes running away worse.” She closed the gap between them and pulled Kendra to her. “Sometimes, when you stand up to a bully, you get hurt. But you’re going to get hurt worse if you don’t.”
They stood together for a moment before Kendra broke away.
“So long story short, if I go, you go?”
“Essentially,” agreed Cass. “But you’re not going on the ground attack! If you’re going to do this lunacy, I’d rather have you watching my back from orbit. Much as I hate to say it, I’ll feel better if you’re flying around in the most advanced fighter we can build. And when were you planning to tell me about that little adventure?”
“When were you going to tell me you brought home a treecat village?”
“It’s in my reports!”
“Which I never read and you know it.”
“Not my problem,” Cass said primly.
“Admiral,” Minerva interrupted. “Admiral Whitmore would like a moment.”
“Put her through.”
Without preamble Whitmore said, “The Defiant just re-entered the System and will dock in about a half hour.”
“Thank Zeus!” exclaimed Kendra while Cass looked puzzled.
“I’ll explain later,” she whispered, but Whitmore continued.
“They’ve downloaded their logs to us, but the summary is they chased al-Battani out to Alpha Phoenicis and most of the way back.”
“Most of the way?”
“Most of the way. The dreadnought suffered a warp drive failure thirty-odd light years away.”
“Ouch. Casualties?”
“None I’m aware of; the Artemesian crew has been left in deep space, awaiting rescue.”
“Because Defiant is too small. Got it. Certainly interesting news! A half-hour, you said?”
“Yes.”
Kendra checked her ‘plant. “Too late today to do much. I think we need a war council in the morning. All the Captains plus the usual suspects.”
“Eight hundred?”
“Suits. See you then. Out.”
She turned back to Cass who wore a most interested expression.
“I forgot to mention the Defiant, didn’t I?” Kendra said.
“Uh-huh.”
“Let’s round up the kids, get some dinner on the station, and then we can finish catching up.”
“And the ‘cats. I don’t think we can go anywhere without them.”
Kendra looked warily at her. “They won’t have an issue with lots of people?”
“They’ve had a couple weeks to adjust, and as long as they’re near their girls they should be fine.”
“Right. Wonder what places are ‘cat-friendly?”
“DAMN.”
Phalkon was furious, but the single word was all she allowed to escape. What happened to the al-Battani? Her plans had been working beautifully, and now this?
She forced herself to inhale deeply. It seemed to help.
“Fine,” she said to her empty office. It was the only space she was convinced was clean of any listening devices, and sometimes talking out the challenges helped her deal with them. “No problem. Eliminating one of their starships would have been nice, but we can manage. Fighters, gas, Mars fleet, Lynch, and throwing our own fleet at them ought to keep them busy.”
Her terminal chimed and she keyed it to receive.
“Yes?”
“The Empress is requesting your presence,” said the voice of one of the armsmen. Since the ‘quake she’d retreated to her quarters, only rarely requesting Phalkon’s presence. This suited her just fine, as it allowed her uninterrupted time to continue refining her plans. These summons, though, were tedious, and not only for the feeling of ownership they demonstrated. The Empress’s new quarters were farther away from the working center of government, which was somewhat problematic. On the positive side, she was less likely to interfere
by visiting an office at any given time, even if she was leaving her quarters with any regularity. And when the Empress was removed, Phalkon would be sure to be far away.
On the other hand, it was a hike, and she really didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with her.
Forcing her voice to the properly obsequious tone, she responded, “I serve.”
Not for much longer.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Habitat Njord
Stardate 12009.08
This is unusual, but I’d better adjust. Not like you haven’t dealt with stranger things.
Kendra was doing her best not to look at the treecat laying comfortably on the table in front of Alley, but she knew she was failing. She also knew the rest of her command crew was even worse off, eyes flicking between Hunter and Kendra, trying to gauge her approval. And Alley, damn her eyes, was simply sitting there with a Mona Lisa smile on her face.
Grab the bull by the balls, I guess.
“We have a special visitor today,” she said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “Alley, you want to do the introduction?”
“Certainly, Admiral,” she smoothly replied. “This is Hunter. She’s a treecat, an intelligent, telepathic, tool-using native of Freyr, and she’s the leader of the colony which the Enterprise transported back. As such, she’s the de facto ambassador of the first alien species we’ve made contact with.”
The ‘cat’s tail twitched and she lifted her head to take in the goggling eyes. A ripple moved through her blue-grey fur as she stretched and raised herself onto her hind limbs, then she padded straight to Diana’s avatar. She cocked her head and reached a hand out to touch Diana, pulling it back when it sank into the insubstantial creation of light. Then Alley laughed and she swiveled around, a cat-like look of disapproval on her face.
“Sorry, Hunter.” There was a moment of silence before Alley addressed the humans and AI’s gathered. “She’s curious about Diana and Hecate because she can see them but can’t feel them here.”