Nearspace Trilogy

by Sherry D. Ramsey

  “Fleet Commander, I hope recent developments have persuaded you to change your mind,” he said, only stepping back at the last moment as Regina didn’t pause but kept walking toward the doorway, silently daring him to stop her.

  She opened it and stepped inside. Mauronet followed without being invited and I brought up the rear.

  “About what, Admiral?” she asked him, continuing through to her office.

  “About going after the Chron,” he said firmly. “Their aggressive actions show that we can’t wait around—”

  “Precisely what has changed since our last discussion about this, Admiral?” Regina inquired, lowering herself into her chair. She folded her hands and settled them on the desk in front of her. Her voice was a dangerous calm I knew well, but Mauronet continued, oblivious.

  “What—why—the attack on the Corvids!” he blustered in response. “It’s clear that Nearspace is next!”

  “That may or may not be the case, although—” she held up a hand to stop his next outburst, “—I believe that you’re probably right. However, unless you’ve magically found more ships for the fleet, the problem hasn’t changed. We’re already spread more thinly than we should be. If we take ships out of Nearspace in an aggressive mission, we leave ourselves open to a flank attack.”

  “Place ships to cover the operant artifact in Tau Ceti and the Delta Pavonis wormholes leading out of Nearspace,” Mauronet said, in a pinched voice that obviously cost him an effort to control. “If we create a bottleneck at the entry points—”

  Regina Holles suddenly slammed both palms down on the surface of her desk with a resounding slap. Mauronet jumped as if the slap had hit him in the face. “If those are the only two entry points,” she hissed. “But what if they’re not?”

  “Maybe the Authority diplomats have better information about that now,” I said, hoping to be a calming force in the face of this rising storm. “If the Corvids have broader intelligence about the Chron movements—they did know about the Tau Ceti wormhole, after all—they might be able to shed more light on what we’re facing.”

  I suppose I should have known better than to put myself in between those two. They both resented my interference, for different reasons. Regina glanced at me coldly, Mauronet with heat. I held up my hands and started to back toward the door.

  “Just trying to be helpful. I’ll excuse myself if you two want to duke it out. I have to get my ship ready, anyway.”

  “Ready for what?” Mauronet asked with suspicion.

  “Ready to carry out the orders I’ve given him,” Regina snapped, “which are not your concern. Admiral Mahane, you are dismissed. Thank you for your input, and check in with me before you leave the station.”

  “Of course, Fleet Commander,” I said, suitably chastised for making light of the situation happening between them. I closed the door very, very softly as I left the Fleet Commander’s office. I didn’t start to chuckle until I was sure neither of them would hear me.

  Chapter 4 – Luta

  Don’t Shoot the Messenger

  THE DAY AFTER our ignominious escape from the Corvid system, the Tane Ikai was in a repair dock at FarView Station, and I was hurrying to meet Lanar. We’d had a chance to tell our stories about what had happened at the Corvid station, and been assured that a rescue mission would be launched soon. I didn’t know why it wasn’t immediate, but I hoped Lanar might be able to tell me that.

  His ship, the Nearspace Protectorate Vessel S. Cheswick, was a Pegasus-class cruiser with a crew of fifty, the real workhorse ships of the Protectorate patrol network. They could run surveillance, scout trouble zones, deploy Protectorate troops planetside via its onboard shuttles, or actively participate in battle. Lanar had been in command of this one for ten years now. He could have had a Fleet Commander promotion anytime he wanted, but he’d told me once that he felt more needed and useful on the bridge of the Cheswick than he expected to feel anywhere else. Honestly, I was happy to have him stay an Admiralo. It meant he could turn up anywhere in Nearspace, sometimes even right where and when I needed him.

  FarView was a typical station, catering to both the military and the tourist market, which meant an interesting mix of shops and services. I hadn’t had a chance to visit any of those yet, with everything else we had to do, but I wasn’t in Lanar’s office on his ship very long before I started to think I’d rather be shopping.

  “You could have been killed!”

  Lanar paced the breadth of his office, just behind the bridge of the Cheswick. We both tend to pace when we’re agitated or need to think. Must be a genetic thing. I must remember to ask Mother someday whether she does, or Dad did.

  I held up a palm. “Hey, you were the one who sent us there, don’t forget. I wasn’t just randomly joyriding around in the Corvid system for fun.”

  “I thought it would be safe! You told us the Chron incursions into Corvid space were rare.” He obviously wasn’t done ranting yet. I just didn’t know why I was on the receiving end.

  “Well, that’s what they said. I guess the Corvids underestimated,” I snapped. “Do you think I’m not upset about what happened?”

  Lanar looked like he’d snap back, but then something flickered in his eyes. He crossed to where I sat on the smartly-upholstered sofa next to the view wall and took my hands, pulling me to my feet and enveloping me in a hug. “Luta, I’m sorry. I’m mad at myself, not you. I would never have knowingly sent you into danger.”

  I hugged him back, and said into his shoulder, “What a mess.”

  “If it’s any consolation, the envoys came back with a lot more information about the Chron, from the Corvids. All those gaps in the data are filling in now, thanks to your help.” He let me go and moved to the tiny drinks dispenser on a cabinet in the corner. “Double caff?” When I nodded, he pulled a steaming drink for each of us.

  I took mine hesitantly, as if I didn’t really deserve it, and sat back down. “Some help we were. We came back without four of our people, and we didn’t even fire a torp at a Chron ship.”

  “You weren’t there to fight. You did the right thing. You got everyone else back. How’s the Tane Ikai?”

  “She’ll be better in two days, they tell me. What happens now?”

  He quirked a half-smile. “The S. Cheswick ships out the day after tomorrow for the Corvid system.”

  “Just you? And why the delay?”

  Despite the smile, there was no humour in his grey eyes. “They won’t send us out without making sure the ship is at one hundred percent. We can’t spare any other ships—not when we don’t know what the Chron are planning. The Corvids will know we’re coming—we’ll send a message through the wormhole before we skip through, and with luck they’ll send us the coordinates to navigate the asteroids. We go in, collect Yuskeya and the others, and come home. Offering assistance to the Corvids if they need it.”

  I was squeezing my mug so hard I was afraid I might crumple it. “Is it my fault they’re sending you? I mean, because it was your idea to send me?”

  Lanar shook his head, looking at me somewhat fiercely. “Absolutely not. I would have volunteered even if Regina hadn’t asked me.”

  “Because it was your idea to send me!”

  “Because it’s what I do,” he said. “Stop worrying about it. We’ll be back in a few days.”

  “That sounds like famous last words,” I said, but I went on before he could come up with a retort. “But honestly, I had a hunch you might be leading the rescue team, and so did someone else. Viss wants to go with you. I know it’s not within Protectorate protocol—”

  He held up a hand, stopping me gently. “It’s actually not a bad idea. Viss has been there; he knows the system and the aliens.”

  I frowned. “I told him I doubted you’d go for the idea, because I wouldn’t expect Protectorate regulations to let a civilian tag along on a mission like this.”

  Lanar absently ran a finger over the double row of nine colourful starburst pins on the collar of his un
iform, lingering on the ninth purple star, the one that marked him as an Admiral. “Luta, Viss isn’t exactly like any other civilian.”

  “You told me before that he wasn’t another undercover Protect—”

  “He isn’t! I was straight with you on that.” He stood and crossed to the view wall, staring out toward the main part of the station. The Cheswick hung at the dock end of one of the station arms, and from here we could see into the brightly-lit centre hub of the station. A small sea of people moved inside. Women shopping. Parents and kids roaming around wide-eyed. Lobors and Vilisians scattered through the mix. Protectorate officers looking for a fancier meal than they were used to getting in the mess. And maybe some fancier company than they’d had in a while.

  “Viss’s history with the Protectorate goes a long way back,” he said, shoving his free hand deep into the pocket of his pants. “You must have known there was something there, when I had him . . . transporting that illegal PrimeCorp tech for us.”

  “Smuggling, you mean? On my ship?”

  He turned sharply to look at me, but I grinned.

  “Don’t worry, I already forgave you for that, remember? And yes, I suppose I must have known you wouldn’t just pick him randomly. You knew something I didn’t.”

  He nodded. “And I still don’t think it’s my place to tell you Viss’s life history. How many times have you told me how much your crew respects each other’s secrets, when I was worried one of them might tell PrimeCorp more about you than you wanted them to know?”

  I shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t need to know.”

  “But I will tell you that Viss has history with the Protectorate, the kind of history that makes him a welcome addition on board any Protectorate ship. If he wants to come with me to collect Yuskeya, no one is going to have a problem with that.”

  “I like your use of the word ‘collect’. Makes the job sound like a casual jaunt in a rented flitter.”

  His eyes were serious now. “I wasn’t being flippant.”

  I stood and crossed to him, and he put a comforting arm around my shoulders. “I know. I just want it to go smoothly. And the last foray into that system sure didn’t.”

  We stood for a moment, and then he held me at arm’s length. “If Viss comes with me, who’s going to run engineering on the Tane Ikai? Even if, as I hope, we’re only gone for a few days?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Hirin and I ran that ship alone for a long time, if you’ll remember. I think we can limp along for a few days, especially since I’ve got no plans other than a couple of cargo drops. I might go as far as Kiando to visit Mother.”

  He laughed. “No offense intended! I’m sure you and Hirin can manage just fine. In fact, you’ll probably get along better than I will. Viss will be as cranky as an Erian snowcat, being away from both Yuskeya and your ship.”

  I didn’t want to think too much about the Tane Ikai with neither Viss nor Yuskeya aboard.

  Lanar continued, “I was just at Mother’s, asking her for a favour. She’d be happy to see you.”

  “What kind of favour? Are you all right?”

  He smiled. “Of course, I’m all right. I just wondered if she might still have a contact at PrimeCorp who could help us. We need someone on the inside to look into some things for us.”

  “But you’re not going to tell me exactly what those things are.”

  “Well . . .”

  “Never mind. I’m not going to pump you for classified information. But I will ask if you’re going to tell me what happened to your hand?”

  “What do you mean?” But his hand twitched inside his pocket, and it was the one I’d seen bruised.

  “You were in a fight.”

  He slid it out and displayed it for me. No sign of the bruises that had spread yellow and purple smudges over his knuckles.

  “Big deal. I know about your nanobioscavs, remember?” I said with sarcasm. “Now, tell.”

  “Okej, you win. I . . . had to teach someone a lesson. No, hang on,” he said quickly, waving the hand. “That’s not really true. I didn’t have to do it, and I didn’t even plan to do it. I just reacted without thinking.”

  I crossed my arms and stared at him in my best disapproving-big-sister mode. “That impulsiveness gets you in trouble sometimes.”

  He chuckled. “Oh yes, and you’re the soul of sober second thought.”

  I chose to take the high ground and ignore that. “So tell me, what did you get impulsive over, and who met the business end of your knuckles?”

  Lanar went back to his chair and sat down casually. “That worm, Antar Mauronet. Remember him? He tried to impound the Tane Ikai that time you and Hirin helped Sektan Ouvieron catch the smugglers?”

  “I’m not likely to forget Mauronet, even if it was something like thirty years ago,” I said dryly, returning to my chair, too. “But it does make me think that he probably deserved it. Not bad-mouthing me, was he? I don’t think our paths have crossed since then.”

  “He doesn’t seem to like you any better than he did then, but no, it wasn’t about you. He made some insinuations about Regina Holles that were uncalled-for. I let him know my thoughts.”

  My heart twisted a little. For a while I’d thought Lanar and Regina—they seemed so well-suited, I really thought they might make a permanent couple. And it had been the first time I’d seen Lanar truly happy with a woman since Soranna had died. But the Protectorate life doesn’t make the best planting ground for long-term relationships to grow. I suspected Lanar still had a soft spot for her, though.

  “She came to see me when we docked,” I said. “I forgive you for your rash actions if you were defending her. I always liked her.”

  Lanar pursed his lips. “You know she’s a Fleet Commander, don’t you? I don’t see her much, but she was here on FarView for the meeting where I suggested you go to the Chron system with the diplomats, and she’s still here. She and I—well, we’d discussed it beforehand and she was all for it.” He smiled. “She always liked you, too, and still does. I know she’d love to see you wearing a Protectorate uniform, though.”

  I held up a hand. “Dios forfend,” I said. “I have enough Protectorate trouble as it is.”

  Lanar’s door pinged and he called, “Come in!” When it slid aside, Viss stood in the opening, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He’d changed out of his scruffy blue shipsuit and wore wheat-coloured casual pants, military-style boots, and a short, chocolate-toned leather jacket that I didn’t think I’d ever seen before. With his salt-and-pepper buzz cut, he could have been an off-duty Protectorate officer.

  He grinned at us. “Am I too early?”

  I shook my head. “No, the question has been put and answered. You’re welcome to go along on the mission. But they’re not leaving until the day after tomorrow.”

  Disappointment flashed across his face, but he came into the room and offered a hand for Lanar to shake. “Admiral, good to see you. Thanks for including me in this. But why the delay?”

  “Maintenance cycle. Fleet Commander’s orders,” Lanar explained briefly. “Good to see you, too, Viss, although I wish the circumstances were different.”

  Viss shrugged, but his brown eyes were very intense. “We’ll get them back.” I knew his casual attitude hid a very real concern.

  Lanar crossed to the chairs and sat down again, motioning us over to join him. “So, tell me exactly what happened out there this time,” he said, adding with a grin, “I promise not to freak out again.”

  “If you do, I’m walking out and going shopping,” I warned him. I looked at Viss, but he nodded, content to let me tell it. “Honestly, I don’t know. The Corvids didn’t have time—or the inclination—to tell us much about what was happening, just that the Chron were attacking. The Corvids didn’t seem prepared for it. It shook up the station, I can tell you that. Jarama—one of the Corvids—said the Chron had breached the asteroid navigation barrier to get into the system, and that they’d figured out a way to bypass it. I gu
ess, although they hadn’t said anything to us previously, that this is getting to be a more common occurrence.”

  Viss chimed in. “The Chron had heavy torps—maybe even something like a ship’s cannon. The Corvids said the station wasn’t breached, but the Captain’s right—it sure was getting shaken up. The Corvids were holding their own, but the battle was still raging around the station when we entered the asteroid field.”

  “Lanar?”

  He looked away from Viss and over at me.

  “What’s going to happen now?”

  He flashed me a smile. “Viss and I are going to go collect our lost sheep from the Corvids, and you’re going to get back to business. Or a rest. Whatever works for you.”

  “I mean, big-picture. Nearspace. Chron.”

  He stood again and went to the view-wall on the other side of the room. This one wasn’t an actual window but a screen, currently showing a feed from the external cameras, stars winking quietly against the dark expanse. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about the Chron, and about how unprepared we seem to be. And I’m not the only one. You didn’t hear this from me, but the Protectorate might be spread too thin to offer an effective resistance if they do come.”

  “The planets—well, some of them—have security forces. They’ll come to the fight, right?”

  “We can’t count on the five PrimeCorp worlds—we don’t know which way they’re preparing to jump. And we don’t know what other alliances they might have formed. You saw them in Chron space. Something’s brewing, and it’s killing me that I don’t know what it is.”

  I looked at him closely. “But . . . you have a theory? Intel?”

  “Not really. But if the Corvids can’t keep the Chron contained, and they’ve been holding them off all this time—”