Finish What You Started

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Finish What You Started Page 4

by Michael Anderle


  “It is common among many of the species we have contact with to have a split within their societal structures,” ArchAngel informed them. “The strong defend, and the intellectuals innovate—at least in the successful examples, although war is the other single largest driving factor for technological innovation across the galaxies. The curiosity here is that the Moen lack such a component in their society, which in turn leaves them vulnerable to predation from species like the Ooken.”

  “It’s not so much a curiosity as a damn crying shame,” the Admiral stated flatly. “No sentient being should live at the mercy of another.”

  “Unless that mercy is Bethany Anne’s,” Kael-ven amended.

  Admiral Thomas nodded. “Amen to that.”

  “Would it be beyond the bounds of reason to assume that the Moen began as one of these ‘split’ societies?” Kiel inquired. “ArchAngel, I wonder if your data can provide an answer as to whether this is the Moen's planet of origin. Perhaps their homeworld suffered some cataclysmic disaster and those we know are the descendants of the survivors?”

  They turned to the screen as one for the answer.

  ArchAngel lifted a shoulder. “I couldn’t possibly confirm either way,” the EI told them. “However, I can tell you that the actions of the on-ground troops have not gone unnoticed. I have been listening in to the Moen’s communications in an attempt to discern the hiding places of the Ooken leadership, and there is much confusion as to why our Marines did not fire upon them when the Ooken used them as living shields.”

  Admiral Thomas growled, “Because we are not monsters! Those Ooken bastards deserve to die painfully for this.” He began to pace in an attempt to burn off the anger radiating from him. “So the Moen know that we mean them no harm. The question is, how do we capitalize on that to get them out from under the thumb of the Ooken?”

  Kiel held up a hand. “We could put our resources into finding out what passes for leadership among the Moen. Make contact on behalf of Bethany Anne before she gets here?”

  “Baba Yaga,” Admiral Thomas corrected. “Our Queen does not wish to be caught on video.”

  Kael-ven shrugged. “It’s not that simple. Is it?”

  Admiral Thomas wasn’t hearing him. “I like the idea. Find the Moen leaders, reach out to them with kindness. Which is their due, anyway. Bethany Anne’s aim has always been to reach hearts and minds, and she’s right.” His pacing slowed some, his hands linking at the small of his back as he worked through his thoughts. “The Moen don’t want to be free since they have no idea what freedom is. Bethany Anne wants the Ooken out, so I wouldn’t waste money betting they’ll be on Moen for much longer. Then…I don’t know. She’ll probably want them edged slowly toward independence, right?”

  The two Yollins looked at each other, then nodded at the Admiral.

  “Sounds about right,” Kael-ven agreed. “So we institute the same systems for education, healthcare, and employment we have on High Tortuga and Devon?”

  Kiel looked skeptical. “Isn’t that basically tricking them? What if the system doesn’t work? This isn’t the same situation as High Tortuga or Devon.”

  Admiral Thomas shrugged. “The system is designed to be adaptable to whatever needs the people living within it have. We’ll work out what the Moen need.”

  Kiel shook his head. “I’m not asking if it’s possible. I mean, how does this come out ethically?”

  The Admiral raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t Star Trek, Kiel. If interfering with the constitution of a planet is what we need to do to protect the people, then that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  ArchAngel reappeared on the main screen. “I have just received an alert from the early warning system. Multiple Gate signatures just lit the network in all directions.”

  Admiral Thomas cracked his knuckles. “Time to get busy, boys. Looks like we have company on the way.”

  “How long until they get here?” Kael-ven asked, turning back to his console to get the information out to the defense line.

  “I cannot say until they trip another layer of the system,” ArchAngel replied.

  Admiral Thomas cursed softly. “You will inform me the second we have new data.”

  Archangel narrowed her eyes. “Of course. Should I inform the Queen that the Ooken are on their way?”

  Admiral Thomas considered the options. “No need to alarm Bethany Anne,” he replied. “We have the BYPS keeping the planet out of the equation, and the Ooken don’t know we have control of all of their defense platforms as well as our own. Send a brief report to Devon, and tell the captains to prepare for a brawl.”

  QT2, QBBS Helena, Shipyard, R&D Lab

  Jean and Qui’nan stood separated by the hard light hologram of Qui'nan's proposed design, as well as the gulf between Jean’s expectations and the Yollin architect’s interpretation of them.

  Jean double-checked to make sure she hadn’t misread the scale. “Qui’nan, this isn’t a battleship. It’s a fucking floating continent.”

  Qui’nan lifted her shoulders in the Yollin equivalent of a shrug. “What do you expect me to do? The Queen wants her superdreadnoughts to be able to Gate farther. We either upgrade our technology or we—”

  “Supersize them,” Jean finished. She sighed, brushing her hair off her forehead. “I know. I’d hoped for more progress with the nanocytes Bethany Anne brought back.”

  Qui’nan hissed. “Do not speak to me of that ginormous waste of time and effort. Weeks, and all we have to show for it is a whole lot of illegible code we can’t decipher because it’s too degraded to tell what’s useful and what’s junk put there to throw us off the trail.”

  Jean frowned in consideration. “You think it’s in there on purpose?”

  Qui’nan turned from the hologram. “You don’t?”

  “I hadn’t considered it,” Jean admitted. “My priority is to reverse-engineer whatever tech we get our hands on and get it working for us.”

  Qui’nan’s anger ebbed. “There is always the possibility that Bethany Anne will find the Ooken homeworld at any moment,” she commiserated. “We need to take a break from this.”

  Jean chuckled and followed Qui’nan out into the corridor. “You mean you’re hungry.”

  The Yollin did not pause in her stride. “You have that right. There is entirely too much blood in my sugar system for proper consideration of the issues we’ve had working this drek out.”

  “Don’t sweat it. We’ll solve it soon enough.” Jean bumped her with a shoulder as they walked into the cantina. “Trust me, I’ve catered to Bethany Anne’s demands for more years than a lady would admit to having lived, and I’ve never failed to find a solution yet.”

  Qui’nan looked somewhat doubtful as they split up to get their food.

  A few moments later, they met back up at an empty table with their trays. Jean snickered at Qui’nan’s choices. “What will you do when you outgrow your carapace?”

  Qui’nan looked up from her cheesecake, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth. “What are you talking about? This is perfect Yollin fuel. Better than…what’s that you have?”

  Jean waved her fork over her plate. “An actual meal.”

  Qui’nan snorted. “Enjoy your veggies. I’m good with dessert.” She made a show of enjoying the bite on her fork, drawing another chuckle from Jean.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, both their minds on the issue blocking their progress.

  Jean pushed her tray away, her plate clear. “We need to talk about the elephant in the room.”

  Qui’nan looked at her in confusion for a moment. “Idiom, right? There are no pachyderms here. I can only assume you mean that the unavoidable is coming, and we are almost at the bottleneck I predicted some time ago?”

  Jean massaged around her eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “Uh-huh. My teams are doing good work removing everything of value from the territory we’ve gained, including strip-mining the systems to make sure there’s no value in the Ooken returnin
g.”

  Qui’nan made a face. “Giselle is working to find more suppliers of raw materials.”

  Jean grimaced. “It’s not enough. This shit was so much easier when we didn’t have to organize it all in the dark. Sneaking so as to not get caught with our asses out by the Federation isn’t exactly conducive to building a state-of-the-art fleet.”

  Qui’nan raised her Coke bottle. “I’ll drink to that. I can’t pretend to understand the Queen’s motivation in declining to form a new empire, but we can only work with what she gives us.”

  Jean chuckled inwardly at Qui’nan’s philosophical mindset. Personally, she didn’t see Bethany Anne taking the Empress route again, since she had never chosen it for herself in the first place.

  Oh, she had accepted the role. Begrudgingly. In the beginning, but it had been a necessary step toward fulfilling her vow to wipe out the Kurtherian threat. However, as time passed and the years rolled into decades, that duty had become a burden that prevented Bethany Anne from reaching her goal. Jean had witnessed her friend’s relief at being “forced” to step down as Empress.

  Jean knew that if it came down to it, Bethany Anne would make the same self-sacrifice again. She also knew that if it wasn’t on Bethany Anne’s agenda, it wasn’t likely to occur. Her friend was no dewy-eyed ingénue this turn of the carousel. “We need to get with a solution. We need processed metals, plastics, and a shit-ton of other resources, and we have the grace of a few more months before our concerns mutate into a shutdown.”

  Qui’nan was not unaware of the dire situation they were headed for. “We cannot allow that to happen. Ongoing fleet growth is key to our continued advantage. The maintenance on the superdreadnoughts alone is putting pressure on us.”

  Jean nodded. “Yeah, and that’s just considering the superdreadnoughts we already have. We haven’t even started on the bitch of a job building the next class of superdreadnoughts is going to be without a stable source of uncommon elements. Not to mention an ancillary fleet that doesn’t require bodies to run it without specialist plastics.”

  “We need a solution,” Qui’nan stated.

  Jean snorted and met Qui’nan’s eyes with a hard look. “Fuck if I know where we’re gonna get that from. That’s the problem with living in the shadows; you have to stay hidden.”

  Devon, First City, The Hexagon, Indoor Arena Two

  Michael walked through the Hexagon, heading for Arena Two on Winstanley's directions.

  He expected to find Tabitha teaching since Alexis’ and Gabriel's schedule had them with her for the afternoon. However, instead of the clash of weapons he’d thought to hear coming from the training area, Michael heard music.

  Further investigation did not clear up his confusion. For some unknown reason, Tabitha appeared to be throwing a party for her students.

  Michael glanced around, noting that while most of the students were happy to mix with each other, the adolescent Bakas sat off to the side while the others socialized around them.

  He was pleased to see his children making the effort to include them. Alexis and Gabriel acknowledged Michael’s presence without breaking from their conversation with the group they were trying to persuade to join in.

  Tabitha grinned when she saw Michael. She waved a hand, and the music faded out. “Guys, we have a visitor! Everyone say hi to Michael.”

  Michael froze as every child in the room turned their curious stares on him. What was he supposed to say to children whose alienness to him had nothing whatsoever to do with their species?

  Tabitha cracked up. “Don’t look so scared. They don’t bite.”

  “Speak for yourself,” one of the Bakas called. “If he comes at me, I’m definitely gonna bite.”

  Michael snorted, amused by the youth's spirit. “You will find that my teeth are a little sharper than yours, young one.”

  Tabitha sighed, her hands on her hips. “Boys, play nice, now. Trey, come over here and introduce yourself to our guest.”

  Tu'Reigd, aka "Trey"

  The Baka looked a little less certain of himself on being singled out. Nevertheless, he walked over and offered his hairy hand to Michael. “I am Takar’Tu'Reigd, only surviving son of Mahi’Takar. You can call me ‘Trey.’”

  Michael allowed Trey to engulf his hand and pump it vigorously, amused by the young male’s earnest enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you, Trey.”

  Tabitha clapped her hands and the music started up again. “Great, that was just like we practiced.”

  Michael raised an eyebrow at Tabitha. “What exactly is the purpose of this class?”

  Tabitha grinned. “I’m teaching social skills. You wanna stay and learn some?”

  Michael narrowed his eyes. “You do enjoy pushing me. Maybe a bit too much.” He grinned at Tabitha’s momentary uncertainty. “I’m here to get acquainted with the Bakas. Baba Yaga wishes to know what kind of people they are.”

  Trey’s head whipped between Michael and Tabitha during the exchange, a small, surprised growl sneaking out at the mention of Baba Yaga. “You... You’re Her consort!”

  The young Baka hopped from one foot to another in his excitement. “You have to... I have to... Ohhhhh!”

  Michael frowned at the teen's inability to form a complete sentence. “Are you well, Trey?”

  Tabitha chuckled. “He’ll slow down in a second. Trey’s mom is the one who authorized the youths to train here.”

  Michael inclined his head and patted Trey’s shoulder. “Good woman. You’ll learn a lot from training with Tabitha.”

  Trey was still bubbling over. “I have to take you to meet Mahi’. The Mistress, too, if she will come.”

  Tabitha sucked in a breath. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Trey.”

  Michael noted her sideways glance at him. “Why not?”

  Tabitha grimaced. “Let’s just say that you’re not likely to visit the Enclave without getting into a fight. We need to be on good terms with the Bakas, so ixnay on the unchingpay, and no visiting the Enclave until we’re on solid ground with them.”

  “How are we to build relations if we cannot meet?” Michael demanded. “Does your mother agree that we have to work together to defeat the Ooken?”

  Trey snorted. “Yeah, um, Mahi’ is down, but my uncles aren’t the friendly type,” he explained. “I can see them taking offense at a human being allowed into Mahi’s home. It could give them a reason to replace her with one of her brothers.”

  Michael frowned. “I admit I have very little knowledge of your culture. Perhaps you and your parents would join us for dinner one night so we can rectify that.”

  Trey’s face dropped. “Taka gave his life to save Mahi’ and me. Mahi’ rules in his name until I reach my majority.”

  Tabitha frowned in sympathy. “I didn’t know that, Trey.”

  Trey screwed up his face. “I shouldn’t be talking about it at all. Dammit, why can’t I just keep my big mouth shut? You won’t tell Mahi’ I said anything, will you?”

  Michael chuckled. “Of course not. We are very interested in building bridges between our two peoples. You will pass on mine and Baba Yaga’s invitation to your mother. We can arrange transport for the two of you if being seen outside the Enclave would cause an issue.”

  Trey nodded enthusiastically. “You bet!”

  Michael nodded, satisfied he’d made a good start. “Very well. Thank you for allowing me to keep you from your, um,” he eyed the smiling Tabitha before returning his focus to the Baka, “learning, Trey.”

  3

  Devon, The Hexagon, Underground Hangar, QBS Izanami

  Bethany Anne awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed.

  “It’s amazing what freedom to act does for you,” Michael murmured beside her.

  Bethany Anne turned into Michael’s arms and kissed him before she climbed over him to get out of bed. “It’s amazing what the prospect of kicking some tentacled ass does for me, you mean.”

  “That too.” Michael joined her in the closet. “I have
to admit, I’m pleased that Baba Yaga will be coming out to play.”

  Bethany Anne made a face as she selected a pair of black leggings and a long-sleeved t-shirt from a drawer. “I’m not sure how to react to your crush on my alter ego. Am I supposed to be jealous of myself?”

  “Um, no?” Michael replied. He grabbed a handful of similar, easy-to-wear under-armor clothing and headed back to the bedroom. “But if you keep on this track, ‘we overslept’ will have to suffice as an excuse for why you were late to the war today.”

  Bethany Anne stood on her tiptoes to reach a shoebox on the top shelf. “It’s a good thing you didn’t organize a state dinner yesterday,” she teased.

  Michael looked at Bethany Anne. “I didn’t?”

  “You invited the leader of the Devon Bakas to dinner. If you think it’s going to be an intimate affair, you are sadly mistaken.” Bethany Anne stayed on the balls of her feet to grab another box, this one containing Baba Yaga’s cloak. “After what you told me about your meeting with Mahi’Takar’s son, the only way I see to do this without endangering her position is to ensure that her rivals know we fully support her.”

  “How do you intend to do that?” Michael asked. “I read the child’s mind. He and his mother are good people, but their position appears to be somewhat precarious. If we do not support them, we risk her brothers gaining control of forty percent of Devon’s population.”

  Bethany Anne sighed. “Ugh, politics. It’s like every time I think I’ve escaped them, there they are, fucking my plans in the ass. You know I’ll support them, but it’s a one-time deal, Michael. And it’s going to have to wait until we’ve dealt with Location Three. As much as I feel for the plight of the woman, Moen isn’t going to wait.”

  “This is the problem with picking up planets like new outfits,” Michael joked. “You have to make the alterations yourself or deal with discomfort.”

 

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