by Nick Webb
Po nodded, and reached out a hand to Anya’s arm. “Sounds rough.” She tried to show her a warm smile—to let her know she was on her side.
“But the thing is, right before I left, my dad, he well …” she trailed off. Po braced herself for what Anya might say. “He left the religion. Cold turkey. Threatened to divorce my mom if she kept trying to make him do all the weird rites and stuff. We got close those last few months before I joined the fleet.” She paused again, taking another deep breath. Why am I doing this? I don’t need her baggage, Po thought again. She watched as a shuttle left the bay of the newly arrived cruiser escorted by the Fury’s look-alike, and wondered why it was aimed right at the Phoenix.
Anya breathed deeply again, as if preparing to say something she didn’t want to say. “And then, one day when I came home from work, she was gone. My mom. Just gone. Disappeared. No one knows where she went. Dad was pretty quiet about it—wouldn’t say a thing. My brothers sneered at me when I asked, accusing me of killing her and hiding the body. I finally decided that I had to get out of there, or I’d end up as bat-shit crazy as the rest of them.”
Well that was unexpected.
Po squeezed Anya’s arm. “You’ve got a family here, you know. I’ve got you covered, Grace.” She didn’t even know what she meant by it, but it sounded good.
Anya glanced over at her and smiled. “Thanks, Commander.” Po smiled back and turned to see the shuttle from the newly arrived cruiser begin its approach to the Phoenix’s hangar.
“We’re in this together, Anya,” Po said as she watched the Raven, now clear of its moorings, begin to drift away from the shipyards, and fire its maneuvering thrusters to adjust its attitude. The telltale wavy shimmer at its tail, reminding Po of looking down a smoldering road on a hot Texas day, indicated the gravitic field disturbance from the firing of its gravitic drive, and the ship pulled away from the shipyards at an accelerating pace. Po spied another of the Nine begin its departure.
“And there goes the Roc. Only the Heron left. It’s nearly time.” Po looked over at Anya. “You ready for this?”
“Yeah. Bring the motherfuckers on,” said Anya.
Po nodded. It was a sentiment she agreed with. “There’s the Anya I know.”
Anya glanced at her sidelong. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, that’s just the attitude I’ve come to expect from you. No holds barred. Cavalier. Crass. I kind of like it, you know? I could never pull it off, but it suits you just fine.”
Anya chuckled. “That’s not really me, you know. I mean, a little. It’s me over-exaggerated.”
“Oh?” Po spied the shuttle enter the Phoenix’s fighter bay.
“Look, if you want to survive in a fighter squadron, if you want the boys to take you seriously, you’ve got to be not only better than them, you’ve got to own them. Overwhelm them. If I didn’t do this, none of them would take me seriously.”
Po turned and regarded her, wondering if she was serious. “You think that?”
“Yep. I—”
A person rounded the corner of the hallway in a sprint and nearly bowled into them. With a start, Ensign Ayala, the tattooed, white-haired Belenite from tactical pulled up to keep from running them over, then stopped completely when she realized who she’d nearly knocked into.
“Problem, Willow?” Po asked.
“No, sir,” Ensign Ayala said, tentatively. “I, well, I was just on my way to the hangar to see the shuttle. I’m off duty now, sir.”
“That’s fine, I didn’t say you couldn’t—I’m not even the acting assistant XO today. That’s Lieutenant Commander Jemez.” Out of the corner of her eye Po saw Lieutenant Grace smirk at Ben’s name. Po wondered about that too. “Why do you want to see the shuttle? Someone on there you know?”
Ayala’s eyes darted down, then out the window before meeting Po’s. “Maybe. I heard the pilot might be another Belenite. It’s Senator Galba’s shuttle, and he often has Belenites as staffers. I thought he might also use one as his pilot.”
“Senator Galba is here? The head of the Truth and Reconciliation Committee?” Po thought that sounded awfully strange that the Senator was coming to the Phoenix.
“Yes, sir. I was just on the bridge, and he signaled that he wanted a brief tour.”
“Isn’t the Firebird the flagship? Why isn’t he touring them? Admiral Bates is on that ship.”
“Don’t know, sir. The Firebird is still docked at the shipyards. Maybe they’re not ready to have official visitors?” she offered, looking still hesitant. Almost scared. Why would the Ensign be scared? Po pushed the thought aside—she was probably projecting her own feelings onto the young Ensign. In reality, Po was scared. People were probably going to die in the next few days. Either a few, or a lot, depending on how successful they were.
“Very well, Ensign. Good luck—” Po started to add, but stopped as she saw several more people round the corner. The hallway was starting to feel a little cramped. “Hello, Captain,” she said, saluting.
“Commander Po, please join us for the tour,” he said, putting an emphasis on the last word that suggested it was the last thing he wanted to be doing at the moment. Jake, Ben, and the old XO all followed Captain Watson. “Senator Galba is here and is insisting on seeing the ship before the commemoration and launch ceremony tomorrow.”
The XO growled. “Sounds like a damn political stunt to me. How many cameras will there be, I wonder. Heh.” He grumbled a laugh as Po fell into step with them.
Ayala followed behind but Lieutenant Grace stayed at the window. “Have fun—don’t say anything I wouldn’t say!”
Jake turned to Po and whispered, “That’s just good advice all around. For any situation,” he said, rolling his eyes back at Grace, who smirked back.
Oh hell, Po thought. She understood the tone in their voices, realized Jake never spoke that fast, and caught his eyes lingering on Anya’s rear as they walked further down the hall—it pointed to only one thing.
She turned to whisper in his ear. “Did you have sex with her?”
His eyes went wide, an innocent look spreading over his face before whispering back. “Not recently, dammit.”
***
“Welcome aboard, sir,” said Captain Watson, raising a hand to the Senator as the older man descended the shuttle steps with his entourage following in his wake. He was short, thin, and yet radiated confidence and a needy, false smile, as most politicians do. Jake shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He’d met a senator once—Earth’s—and wasn’t keen on repeating the experience. It was all about them.
“Thank you, Captain, for receiving me on such short notice.” Senator Galba’s voice grated on Jake’s ears. The voice was suave, sophisticated, not harsh or pompous at all—maybe that was what was grating—the man didn’t match Jake’s expectations at all. To him, politicians were tall, loud, arrogant, and not worth his time.
“No problem at all, Senator. Allow me to introduce you to my staff,” and Watson began ticking off the names of the crew surrounding him, Po, Jemez, Mercer, Doc Nichols, and pausing for a brief moment when he came to Ensign Ayala—he apparently hadn’t expected her presence, she being such a junior officer.
Jake noticed something—a strange look in Galba’s eye, one he hadn’t expected from the Senator. Almost a look of recognition. “You have a Belenite in your crew! How lucky you are, Captain. Senator Galba,” he said, extending a hand to Ensign Ayala, his eyes wide as if meeting a celebrity, “an absolute honor to meet you.”
She looked as if words failed her, but drew herself up and replied. “Senator Galba. Blessings upon you.” He didn’t reply but stood there, looking her up and down, a buffoonish smile plastered on his face.
Captain Watson looked from one to the other. “Well, Senator? Shall we begin the tour? I’m afraid we’ll have to keep it short—we’ve still got a hundred things to get ready before the commemoration tomorrow.”
“Of course, Captain—I must make my stay brief as well—I am needed bac
k on the Fidelius to finish the preparations there. Shall we?” He looked around at the fighter bay, smiling broadly, putting on a good show of interest. “What a remarkably large hangar you have here. Tell me, how many fighters can it hold?”
The Captain led the Senator towards the exit, waving the rest of them off. Jake was about to head to the bridge with Ben when he saw Galba leaning in to mumble something to Watson, who nodded and called back to Ayala. “Ensign, would you join us for the tour? Show us around? You’ve been here longer than me, I think.”
“Of course, sir,” she said, joining the two men as they left the bay.
Ben sniffed. “Well, a Senator asking for a tour at the last minute? That’s not in the regs. They’re supposed to ask at least twenty-four hours in advance. Doesn’t he know that—”
Doc Nichols brushed past him. “Can it, son. Nobody cares.”
Ben looked peeved. “Well, obviously the Captain cares. Didn’t you see his face, sir?”
“I did, and you’re right, he does. He hates unexpected dignitary visits. I should know—I’ve worked with him for fifteen years. But you do what you gotta do, son. Now, if you’ll all excuse me …”
Ben watched Doc Nichols leave, and remarked, “I wonder if he’s this relaxed about rules in the operating room.”
Po shook her head. “Well, Ben, I hope you never have to find out. What I’m wondering about is Ayala. Did you see her?”
Jake started walking towards the doors. “Yeah, I wondered about that. Why was she even here?”
“She wanted to see the Belenites on the Senator’s staff—he apparently has a fondness for them. But when he approached her, she was like a deer in the headlights.”
Jake shrugged. “Just shy, I suppose. Embarrassed to be at the center of attention.”
“Maybe,” Po said, as she and Ben fell into step with Jake, walking past the rows of still mostly gleaming fighters on their way out. Several bore smudges and streaks from exhaust fumes from all the training the jocks had been doing—she made a mental note to have the flight deck crew clean them. Preferably before any more high-profile tours. “But shy is not an attribute I’d ascribe to Ayala. Wary, perhaps—most Belenites are—but shy? No.”
“Probably just taken by surprise that the Senator singled her out. That’s all.”
“Maybe,” Po repeated. Or then again, the Senator was fond of Belenites. Maybe they’d met before?
***
The next day brought a new feeling of anticipation to Po, and from what she saw in the eyes of the bridge crew, to everyone else as well. D-day had arrived. Three years ago, she’d lost her pilot, she’d met Jake Mercer, and Dallas had been incinerated, effectively ending the Earth Resistance. At least the public Resistance.
But too many lives had been lost to just quit. Too much depended on them continuing the fight.
Movement on the front viewscreen caught her eye as two ships shifted into orbit near Geneseo Station and maneuvered to join the rest of the fleet assembled. She looked down at her console to verify their identity, even while chastising herself for using the Imperial name for the station, even in her mind. Liberty Station—it was Liberty Station.
“Status, Po?” said the Captain from his chair in the center of the bridge.
Megan looked down at her board. “Sensors indicate two more Imperial capital ships just shifted into orbit around Earth. Total now of twenty-seven. Four capital ships and a handful of light cruisers and frigates.”
Captain Watson steepled his fingers in front of his face. “Well, looks like they’re certainly not leaving anything to chance, are they?”
The XO grumbled. “What do you think? Is this thing still on?”
The Captain nodded. “We stop for nothing, even if the entire fleet shows up. In fact,” he added, “it might be better that way.”
Jake listened in to the conversation from his station at the rear of the bridge. The flight deck was just three floors down, and he could get there at a moment’s notice, so the Captain preferred he stay on the bridge when not in combat.
He looked over at Ben, sharing a glance with the young man, whose firm jaw seemed clamped down as if preparing for imminent action.
Po’s voice broke the silence. “Sir, sensors indicate the Caligula and the Fidelius have just maneuvered into position. They’re broadcasting to the fleet on an open channel.”
“Pipe it through,” said the Captain.
“Imperial fleet, this is Captain Titus, under the direction of Admiral Trajan and Senator Galba of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. You are ordered to assemble at the shipyards for the launching ceremony and commemoration, which will start promptly at the scheduled time. Captains of the nine new ships, please be ready for a test run around the moon to commence immediately after the ceremony. The rest of the fleet, be prepared to fire in salute as they pass. For your fire, in addition to not hitting any vital shipyards or capital ships,” he added dryly, indicating a joke, “please keep in mind the angle of sight from the Fidelius as it will be capturing the event on vid and broadcasting live to Earth and to Corsica by gravitic pod.”
The XO snorted. “Like hell they will. It’s gonna be a hell of a show.”
The Captain smiled wryly, but motioned for the XO to be quiet. Captain Titus continued.
“And Admiral Trajan wishes to extend his warm welcome to the newly crewed battleships. As many of you know, most of the ships now joining our family are crewed by former Earth Resistance members, and in the culmination of the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission they are now formally joining our ranks as welcomed family members. To the Raven, the Falcon, the Phoenix, the Eagle, the Hawk, the Cockatrice, the Griffin, the Roc, and the Firebird, we extend our warmest welcome. Titus out.”
“All one big, happy, fucking family,” said the XO, before breaking into a gruff snicker.
“Helm,” the Captain said, “is the course laid in?”
The young helmsman nodded eagerly. “Yes, sir.”
With a brief, sly nod, he pointed a finger in the Ensign’s direction. “Be ready, at my signal.” Keying open the commlink to engineering, he said, “Commander Xi, bridge. What’s the status of our gravitic drive, Commander?”
Xi’s voice sounded over the speakers. “Can’t say for sure without a test flight. But as far as I can see, they’re operating normally. Gravitic thrust has worked like a charm the past few days, and all my tests indicate the long range shifting field generators are in normal operating parameters. I say go.”
Watson continued. “Engines?”
Xi’s voice came over the speakers again after what sounded like a momentary discussion with someone nearby. “Power plant is working beautifully. The anti-matter crystal matrix is humming along at optimum efficiency. Currently operating at five point two percent load, and capacitor banks are fully charged. And Lieutenant Bernoulli here has added a few modifications of his own… some stuff his CERN buddies showed him. Says we could do about ten in-system shifts, or two long-range shifts before the capacitor banks run out.”
The Captain nodded. “Very good, Commander. You know the drill from here on out. Stay tuned. Watson out.” The Captain looked back at Po. “Commander? Status of weapons systems?”
Po glanced at her readout. “Railgun turrets report optimal electromagnetic efficiency and are completely stocked with slugs. Ion beam control reports ready, torpedo crews report ready, and our quantum field disruptor missiles are locked and loaded, ready for targeting.”
Captain Watson continued making his rounds through the bridge crew, inquiring on the status of all critical systems, until it was Jake’s turn. “Commander Mercer. I trust your team is ready? When we shift, things are going to get interesting very quickly.”
“All flight teams and deck crews ready for action, sir. Just give the word.”
“And your super-secret tactics you’ve been drilling the pilots on?” Watson noticed Jake’s wide eyes, “Don’t look so surprised, Commander, I have a better handle on w
hat happens on this ship than you think. And there’s only one reason for a fighter crew to do drills out of visual range of their carrier, and that’s to stay away from prying eyes. Lucky for you, I gave you approval without you even knowing it, and as a result our XO here didn’t shut you down. Let’s just say I'd better be pleasantly surprised.” He glowered at Jake momentarily, who decided to give the Captain more credit in the future.
Fifteen minutes later every department had reported in, and the waiting began, which the Captain used to make his pre-battle pep speech. He glanced at the young communications officer and said, “Pipe me through on the ship announcement system, and make sure it’s secure from listening ears.”
“Aye, sir. Encrypting now.”
Watson cleared his throat and stood up from his chair. “All hands, this is the Captain. As most of you know, we are about to embark on a dangerous mission, one that will have lasting consequences, for good or for ill, on the long-term status of Earth-Corsican Empire relations. For those of you who have not heard, those of you who are not former Earth Resistance members, I ask for your help. In fact, you were assigned to this ship because you were recommended by Resistance fighters for your skill, your loyalty, and your devotion to freedom. I would not have any other person on board this ship. None. Only the best on the Phoenix.”
He paused, letting the words sink in for a moment. “So now the time has come to reveal to you all our plan. When the Empire announced that the Nine would be all launched at once, in a ceremony commemorating the reconciliation of Earth with the Empire, the Resistance High Council felt it was an opportunity we could not pass up. Nine advanced warships, with capabilities that far surpass any other capital ship in the Imperial fleet, was too much to turn down. And so, over the past two years we have made meticulous preparations for an attack on the planet Corsica itself. When the Nine launch, and we make our shakedown cruise around the moon, we will use the moon’s gravity well to shift to Alpha Centauri, and from there we will make a series of shifts to the Corsican system.”