Tales of Hyperion

[Lop]

"Ten clicks," Olif says.

He hangs from the underside of an atmospheric freighter. A massive red and green planet spreads out underneath, tinges of space poking out to ring the high altitude.

Dot, as well as thirty other commandos, hang from the underside as well. They're all tethered with magna-cables, including a single prototype War-Walker the Fleet seems to have aquired.

Sergeant Dot didn't ask many questions before the mission. She didn't really care. The battlestims flowed through her, sharpening her focus on the clouds below.

"Six clicks," Olif says, consulting his wrist-screen.

The commandos wait. The atmospheric freighter continues to chug along, the planet passing underneath.

"Sergeant," A commando calls.

Dot's gaze is drawn to an indicator point her squadmates placed in her HUD. The indicator directs her to a patch of sky below with three small dots racing across it.

"Three starfighters," The commando continues to call.

"Mach 3 at a descent of 4 degrees," AI 432-5 announces, targeting the starfighters on all the commandos' visors.

The ships continue to pass in the distance, disappearing into a cloud bank.

"Think they saw us?" The commando hanging next to Dot says.

"Three clicks," Olif says, still staring at his wrist screen.

Dot shakes her head.

"They didn't see us. They know we're coming. We'd be dead if they did,"

"Two clicks!" Olif calls.

"This is it!" Dot yells looking around at her squadmates hanging like fruit. "Hard and fast, don't let them stand up!"

"We've reached TZ!" Olif yells.

"RELEASE!" Dot yells, hitting a button on her glove.

Thirty-some magna-cables uncouple from the freighter. The commandos, as well as the massive War Walker, launch downward into a freefall. The cloudbank and lower atmosphere races up towards then.

They hit it, the unit being instantly swallowed by the puffy red clouds.

The clouds continue to blast past them as they fall. Dot's visor shows a decreasing number indicating their proximity to the ground.

The War Walker hails her through the comms.

"Sergeant,"

She looks over as she falls, locating the bipedal tank as they pass through a brief pocket in the clouds.

"I read you," Dot replies.

"Our sensors are picking up chatter, piping it through,"

Dot continues to plunge through the sky with the rest of the commandos. The War-Walker's readout are passed to Dot's visor via AI 432-5 . Despite the heavy cloud cover, small red triangles indicate twenty targets near the LZ.

"Orders?" Olif says. "Are we hot?"

Dot continues to gaze at the triangles, waiting for more information to pipe through. None does.

"We're hot," Dot calls, raising her rifles and placing the barrel between her feet. The rest of the commandos slowly do the same, aiming down as they fall.

"Wait for the 200 metre mark," Dot says through comms. "Fire with the boosters!"

The unit suddenly breaks through the cloud cover. The ground rushes up to meet them. An elaborate metal mega-structure is among the first to near the commandos.

"BREAK!" Dot yells.

The unit, including the War-Walker, activate their jump-boosters. At the same time, they fire at pre-selected targets on their visors. Their HUDs light up as the targets receive super-charged energy rounds.

The War-Walker releases a single-missile stored between its legs at the mega-stucture. It arcs towards the metal tower, impacting against the side.

Instead of an explosion, a clear wave spreads out. Bits of the mega-structure crumble and disappear, and the entire tower begins to tilt.

"We've got ten minutes to get to the under-levels!" Dot yells. "Don't clear levels, just blast through!"

The commandos reach the hole the missile made, their boosters slowing them until they touch down on an exposed portion of the tower interior. There are several Baalsid corpses lying about, and the commandos rush over them as they deposit charges in the center of the floor. The level shakes as the War-Walker lands, using its legs to prop itself between two torn support beams.

The chargers activate, blowing a directed fission blast downward. It punctures a hole through the hundreds of reinforced levels that make up the mega-structure.

"We've got our hole!" Dot yells. "Go go go!"

Again the commandos jump into a great abyss. This time AI 432-5 fills their visors with a network of red triangles, blue squares and green circles. Baalsids and Mon aliens, some in soldier gear, others in technician and officer clothes, gather at the edges of the commando-created tunnel.

The commandos shoot them all as they pass them on the way down.

It's the War-Walker's turn to land first. It hits the bottom, bending its servos and then straightening back up. The commandos touch down in total darkness, AI 432-5 lighting up different features on their HUDs. Dot and the others look around, then Dot nods to Olif.

Olif walks over to the War-Walker and takes a hardline from his wrist-screen to the War-Walkers leg. He opens a panel on the large metal leg, plugging in the hardline. Olif then raises his wrist screen to his visor.

"Command this is 4th Green, command this is 4th Green. We have the target, over,"

Static pipes through everyone's visor. They wait patiently for it to die down.

"This is command," A voice comes over. "We read you. Orders are to hold you position while you await reinforcements. Failing that, destroy the D-Tower using the secondary payload on your War-Walker. Confirm 4th Green,"

"We copy," Olif says, sharing a look with Dot. "Over and out,"

He lowers his wrist-screen.

"Secondary payload?"

Dot turns to the War-Walker.

"What else you packing in there?" She calls.

Dot can see one of the pilots within shrug.

"They don't label that stuff besides "X1" and "X2"." The pilot says, gesturing around the cockpit. "And you already saw "X1", that was the missile that got us in here,"

"That was a pretty intense weapon," Olif says, "Punched a hole right through the outermost level."

"Spread out!" Dot calls, checking her beam-rifle. "They'll be coming from above through the hole we made, and any other entrances down here they may have,"

Dot walks to the center of the space, peering upwards at the floors they blasted through. She can just barely make out the red clouds beyond the entrance to the tunnel.

"Hey," Olif says, jogging up to her. She looks back down, scanning the other commandos as they take up positions.

"What," Dot says, glancing back up at the hole.

"You doing okay?" Olif says, tilting his head to the side. He regards Dot.

"Don't do that," She says.

"What,"

"That," Dot says, looking at him. "Stare at me like I'm a fucking puzzle,"

"Five told me you haven't taken any of the decom-sims," Olif says.

"Fucking Five," Dot says, shaking her head. "You're not supposed to share my business!"

"Unit cohesion is one of my prime directives," AI 432-5 says through her visor. "It is important that Corporal Mannis understands any issues with his CO,"

"Well stay the fuck out of my life, both of you," Dot says, looking back up. "And concentrate on the mission,"

"Look Sarge," Olif says. "Both me and Five are just worried about you. Ever since Jasule,"

"I don't want to hear the fucking name of that planet ever again," Dot says. She continues to stare upwards, raising her beam rifle to stare down its barrel at the sides of the tunnel.

"Sure right," Olif says. "But we've all got to do the decompression-simulations, it's how we cope with things once the stims wear off,"

"We're going to be on this missions for the foreseeable future," Dot says, still gazing down her scope. "So being off the stims isn't something I'm going to have to worry about for awhile, will it,"

"Still..."

"Enough," Dot says. "Thank you Corporal, Five, to your posts,"

"I have no post," AI 432-5 says. "Or a physical form,"

"Then shut up and sight my targets for me,"

"Contact!" Another commando yells.

Red triangles begin to appear, filling the sides of the tunnel. Dot squeezes on her trigger.

Both sides open fire. Energy, bolts, kinetic rounds and small-arms missiles fill the air of the tunnel. Mon aliens in soldier gear begin to drop down, using jump-boosters to slow their fall.

The War-Walker clammors underneath the tunnel, angling its four protruding shoulder-barrels upwards. It opens fire.

A calamitous racket fills the air as the War-Walker unloads its weapons. The air turns hot with churning kinetic-rounds, the Mon soldiers vaporizing as they're hit.

The attackers pause for a moment, and Dot calls for her own side to cease fire as well.

An eerie silence fills the mega-structure.

A faint buzzing starts up.

"Fucking nanite swarm!" A commando yells.

"Stay calm!" Dot yells back. She looks around the large level they occupy.

"We don't have anything, do we?" Olif says. "That swarm will kill us,"

Dot turns to the War Walker.

"Unload X2," She says, nodding at the pilot. "Let's see what we got,"

The War Walker releases a metal case from its underside. It falls on the ground with a clang. Dot and the commandos gather around it. Olif bends down, unclasping the top and sliding it open. He stares at the contents, then looks back up at Dot.

"It's a multi-nuclear payload," He says simply.

The other commandos are silent.

"So we're supposed to hold this tower or die in an explosion?" A commando says, shifting his beam rifle to his other hand.

"That means whatever's in this tower, is important," Olif says. "Like really important. Command throws a fucking fit every time they lose a commando unit to something stupid. If they're willing to kill us...."

"Well," Dot says, placing her foot on one end of the lid. She kicks it, sliding the metal case shut. "I'm not ready to die yet,"

She thinks furiously. The buzz of the nanite swarm grows closer.

"We need an enclosed space, a tunnel or something," She says, looking up. "Find me a hole we can plug the War-Walker in!"

The commandos wait a beat, then snap to their tasks, rushing off in different directions. It only takes a few moments.

"Found one!" A commando yells through the darkness. "Blast doors leading to a hallway!"

"Walker!" Dot yells. "We're going to hide in the tunnel. You're going to block the entrance with your frame!"

"But," The pilot says, the War Walker shifting on its legs. "The nanites will just eat through our mech and then eat you guys. You'll be serving them dinner,"

"Not if you position your jump-boosters outward," Dot says. "We'll cook them all,"

Olif looks at Dot.

"Well shit,"

"To the tunnel!" Dot yells. "Everyone to the tunnel!"

The commandos and the War Walker rush to the blast doors. They're already pried open, and the commandos file through the crack and into the tunnel. The War Walker bends down and crams itself into the crack as well, getting stuck halfway through.

"Alright," Dot says, watching the Walker with the other commandos. The buzz of the nanite swarm is now overwhelming. "Point and direct your jump-boosters!"

The pilot's voice pipes back over their feed.

"fuck Sargeant, hope you know what you're doing,"

The War-Walker shakes as its boosters activate. Dot can just make out the room beyond as the fire flares up. It's filled with black clouds of nanities.

"More!" Dot shouts. "You need to give it all you have!"

"Too much and the walker might blast into the tunnel!" The pilot yells back. "We'd squash you all!"

Dot runs up to the war-walker, activating her exo-suit.

"Everyone!" She yells. "Brace the walker!"

The other commandos rush up to it. The sounds of the boosters mixes in the with the angry buzz of the hungry nanites. The commandos braces themselves against the War Walker, activating their exo-suits.

"Now!" Dot yells. "Full power!"

The War Walker activates the entirety of its booster array. Flames blow out like an angry waterfall, engulfing the nanite swarms in pure, chemical fire.

The sides of the blast door creak and groan, then the War Walker breaks free. The commandos exo-suits groan as they try and hold the War Walker at bay.

"I need to cut the boosters!" The pilot yells. "I'm about to steamroll you guys!"

"Don't!" Dot yells over the noise. "You do and the nanites will have us!"

Lights begin to flicker on in the tunnel. They race along it, illuminating the end. On the other side is another pair of blast doors. They start to open. Mon soldiers wait on the other side.

"Fuck," Dot says. "That's it, I give up,"

"Do not give up Sergeant," AI 432-5 says. "I have alerted command of our present situation, and they have just authorized me to connect with Unknown AI,"

"Unknown AI?" Dot says. "What the hell is that?"

"Connecting, please hold for approximately two minutes."

One of the commando's exosuits snaps, tearing the man's leg clean from his body. He cries out in pain.

"Alright!" Dot yells. "Grab onto the War-Walker! We're riding this baby into those fucking Mon!"

The commandos look at her.

"The fucks wrong with you!" Olif yells. "Your sergeant just gave you an order!"

"Yes ma'am!" The commandos yell, battlestims flooding their systems. They reach up, even the man with the severed leg, and grip onto the War-Walker.

"What the fuck," The pilot says over the comms.

"Now pull yourselves up!" Dot says.

The commandos pulls themselves onto the War-Walker, and it shoots down the hall like a cork. The mon soldiers pause as they enter into the hall, raising their weapons in confusion.

"Fuck em' up!" Dot yells, leveling her beam rifle with one hand and gripping the Walker with the other. She and the commandos open fire.

"I have connected to Unknown AI," AI 432-5 announces. "The nanites are now under my control,"

"Cut the boosters!" Dot yells.

The War Walker obliges, and it screeches to a halt. The top of its cockpit comes to rest inches from the blast doors.

"Five," Dot says, putting two fingers to her helmet. "Is it true you have control of the nanites?"

"Unknown AI has lended me her strength. I have control,"

Dot and Olif share a look.

"Alright then Five," Dot says, readying her beam rifle. "Clear this tower of everything that's not us."

"Right away, Sergeant Dot,"

-End of Chapter 19-

 

[Lop]

Nessa Neganta pulls hard on her control stick, rearing up her Mobile Armor unit. The massive robot suit activities its burners, coming to a stop. In one fluid motion, Nessa sights up three War Walkers and squeezes the joystick trigger.

The Mobile Armor releases three missiles. All three punch through the bipedal tanks. They explode seconds later.

Her computer highlighters a damage report, and Nessa's eyes study the figures as the simulation ends. The roof to her training pod swishes open, letting in bright, artificial light.

"Damn," Liko says, staring at the screen outside her pod. Nessa gives her squadmate a glance as she hauls herself out from the training machine.

"What," She says.

"You're getting better at sight-pulling. That's instinct you know, real pilot shit,"

"Sure," Nessa says, hopping down next to Liko. "But it's still not good enough,"

"I mean," Liko says, looking back at the screen and scratching his head. "You're one of the top MA pilots in the brackets, so if it's not good enough then what's that say for the rest of us?"

"That it's not good enough," Nessa says, taking a rag from the bench next to her pod. She dabs her forehead, then accepts a bottle of water from Liko. She unscrews it and takes a drink. "You know the Ptolem sent some of their Aces to the Xurama fleet," She continues, handing the water bottle back. "We're going to be the targets of pilots who are more machine than organics,"

"Well yeah, but I heard we're getting two new MA types," Liko says, following Nessa as she walks across the training center. "They're supposed to be incredible. Maybe we'll get to pilot them,"

"Really?" Nessa says, turning on him. "Why have I not heard of this?"

"I just heard it from Mandry," Liko says, shrugging. "I figure Captain will tell us eventually,"

The two pilots walk down a hall, sharing it with a pair of officers walking the other direction.

"What do you know about them?"

"The new MA's?" Liko says. They turn a corner, entering another hall. "One type is really fast, the other's heavily armed,"

"How fast?" Nessa says, entering a lift-tube. Liko files in after her.

"What do you mean?" He says, selecting a floor.

"Back on Bortca," Nessa says. "The enemy MA's were faster. So how fast are these new ones?"

"Speed doesn't really matter in a urban battle," Liko says. The liftube takes off, shooting them quickly along the Rex Oculus. "If an MA flew even a little above a building back in Bortca, a starfighter would pick it off,"

"We won't always be fighting in cities. Be honest Liko, could you fight in zero-g right now?"

"Zero G?" Liko says, the liftube slowing down. "You mean like space?"

The doors slide open and the pair walks into a new hall. This one is full of pilots in their uniforms. They nod at Nessa and Liko as they pass.

"Yes, space," Nessa says, leading Liko onward. "Did you know that's what Mobile Armor's were originally intended for? They fight on the surface of the warships,"

"What, outside the hull?" Liko saysm laughing. "They're just standing on it? Out in the open?"

"That was twenty years ago," Nessa says. "Things have changed, but I heard Mobile Armor units from the 1st and 3rd Fleet fought in space when they were attacked,"

"Shit I would not have been ready," Liko says, shaking his head. "Do they have extra boosters or what?"

"Yeah, magnetic clamps as well. You've got to master both. The training sims have the zero-G option. You should start logging hours,"

The two stop in the doorway of a small room with six bunks. James, Nessa's third squadmate, lies in one. He stares up at the ceiling, his prosthetic lower jaw gleaming in the room's single light.

"Hey," Nessa says.

James looks away from the ceiling, locating Nessa and Liko with his good eye. The other has been replaced by a black box that protrudes from the socket.

"What," He says, his voice strained.

"We're going to bug the captain about letting us pilot the new MA types, come with us,"

"I dunno," James says, slowing turning back on his back. His voice is barely a hoarse whisper. "I'm not really feeling it,"

"They got you on too many pain patches," Nessa says, crossing the room and grabbing James's arm. "They're making you lazy, come on,"

James continues to stare at the ceiling. Nessa nods Liko over, and together they pull James off the bed. They catch him, both grunting and straining to right him. Nessa straightens up, adjusting her uniform.

"Alright, there," She says. "Let's go,"

Nessa leads the way, and Liko tries to guide James along. Together the trio walk down the hall towards a door near the end. Several other pilots pass, all nodding at the three.

Nessa stops in front of the door, knocking loudly. The door slides open, and they enter.

"Oh, Lieutenant Neganta," A man says. He sits behind a desk, a data pad and several holograms taking up the surface. "Can I help you?"

"We heard there's new MA types," Nessa says, coming to a stop in front of the desk. "We want a chance to pilot them,"

"So you came to my office?" The captain says, looking annoyed. "What, you think I actually have a say in it?"

"Yeah Captain, I do. We're one of the top squads. We should get a shot,"

"That sounds like entitlement lieutenant," The captain says, picking up his data pad and consulting it. "And I'll have none of that. This is a merit-based fleet, it's how we're going to win,"

"We're among the best aren't we?" Nessa says. "We proved ourselves in Jasule, and our sims have good numbers,"

"And so maybe that means you stay in the Jastakars," The Captain says. "They're good models and you're already used to them."

He shifts behind his desk, looking between Nessa and Liko.

"What about you Lieutenant Paccard? Do you feel you're entitled to the new MA's?"

Nessa and Liko turn to James. He looks at both of them, then looks at the Captain.

"I don't care,"

"You've got him on too many pain patches," Nessa says, putting a hand to her hip. "You guys need to figure that stuff out,"

"We have a severe shortage of experienced and trained medical staff I'm afraid,"

"But new types of Mobile Armors?" Nessa says. "That's priorities,"

The captain stands quickly, throwing his hands down on the desk and staring intently at Nessa.

"Lieutenant I promise you the last thing I need or will tolerate today is insubordination, which your tone sounds dangerously close to."

"I apologize Captain," Nessa says, throwing a salute. "it won't happen again,"

The captain continues to stare at her, then finally waves her away, sitting.

"So you feel like you should pilot the new MA's..." The captain says, picking back up his datapad.

"I feel we could do some good," Nessa says. "If you see fit to allow us,"

"Hm," The captain says, consulting the screen. "Well I appreciate the respect I'm hearing now. I'll write off your outburst as post-battle stress, and see about getting you three of the M9 Star Knights. They're supposed to be rather fast,"

"Thank you sir!" Nessa says.

"Hm, anything else Lieutenant?"

"No sir,"

"Good, get out of my office,"

Nessa and Liko turn and walk towards the door. They prod James and he turns as well, walking out with them. Nessa waits for the doors to close, then spins and grabs Liko's shoulders.

"Star Knights! Those sound like the fast ones!"

"That's what captain said," Liko says.

"They'll never catch us," Nessa says, grinning. "We'll be unstoppable,"

"Well..."

Nessa turns to James next, grabbing his shoulders. She stares at him intently.

"Stop taking those pain-packs, we're getting you back into the sims,"

"Well hold on now," Liko says, coming around the side of them. "Shouldn't we ask his doctor first?"

"His doctor is Sindy Silts, the old tutor. We know just as much as she does,"

"Well I was kind of hoping to get down to the mess right now," Liko says, rubbing his shoulder. "Grab some food, see if anyone's split-screening."

"That's fine, I have to meet a friend in the outer decks now anyways,"

"Oh?" Liko says, studying Nessa with suspicion. "Got the ship-jumpies?"

"No," Nessa says, narrowing her eyes. "I do not have the "jumpies", and that's not why I'm meeting him,"

"But it is a him,"

"An old family friend," Nessa says. "And take James with you,"

Nessa turns to James, catching his attention.

"James, I'm serious about you quitting the patches,"

He shrugs, his metal jaw glinting as he shifts.

"Okay, go with Liko to the Mess, I'll meet you guys there shortly," Nessa says. She turns away from them, walking down the hall.

"If you get pregnant they won't let you pilot!" Liko calls after her.

"Shut the fuck up asshole," Nessa calls back, then disappears around a corner.

Nessa takes the lift tube out several levels towards the outer hulls of the Rex Oculus. It stops, and she follows a bending hall until she enters into a circular chamber. On one curving wall are thousands of black markings. On the other, a large window looking out into space.

Hans Raemen is already there, standing by the window. It's large enough that several people could stand at it, giving each other a respectable distance. There are other people as well, staring out into space. Nessa walks up to him, and he turns to her as she nears.

"Lieutenant,"

"Just call me Nessa," She says, stopping at the window and staring out into the twinkling void. "You're possibly my only family left,"

"Hm, then call me Hans,"

"I do,"

Hans smiles, giving a knowing nod.

"You do, don't you,"

"So what is this," Nessa says, looking back at the wall with the black smudges.

"Something new we're trying," Hans says, looking at the curved wall as well. "Building a culture from scratch. Are you religious Nessa?"

"What? You mean was I a member of the Tritan temples?"

"I guess that's all I could mean," Hans says. "Because we didn't have anything else, did we,"

"So what, we're starting a new religion?"

Hans smiles again, shaking his head.

"No Nessa, we're not starting a new religion. Just some new customs. Something to unite us beyond our shared plight. This one is actually borrowed from Verseys, but it'll serve us well enough,"

Nessa leaves the window looking out to space, and approaches the curved wall. She stops in front of the writing and looks at it.

"It's all....what is this?" She says, tracing the writing.

"Things people are thankful for," Hans says, coming up behind her. "You write it on the wall, then stare out into space for awhile"

"Seems kind of stupid,"

"Maybe," Hans says, putting a hand to the wall and tracing one of the words. "But all we have is Tritan culture. It's time to build our own,"

"Captain says without Tritan we would have turned on ourselves. That all species without an outside threat do,"

"That sounds a lot like Kherdic Philosophy," Hans says. "Which some of the officers have taken a liking to. Don't listen to them, they're just rationalizing their new identities. It's true we might have turned on each other without Tritan, but under them we were nothing. Now, we can be anything,"

"Which of course means writing on walls, and building black pillars in fields after a bunch of people die,"

"We have to find meaning somehow," Hans says, lowering his hand from the wall.

"Well, I just lost my father and mother, so I think I'll pass this time. Not feeling very thankful,"

"Sure," Hans says, taking out a pen from his breast pocket. He scribbles something quick on the wall, then puts the pen back in his jacket. "Let's go stare out at space then,"

Nessa follows him back over to the window, and together they look out at the stars in the great beyond. Neither speaks for a bit.

"What'd you write," Nessa says, finally breaking the silence.

"That's not how it works," Hans says. "You can't tell people,"

"It's not a wish," Nessa says, laughing. "Tell me,"

"I will if you write something up there,"

Nessa shakes her head, but she's still smiling.

"Naw, maybe next time. Hey! Captain said me and my squad gets to try the new Mobile Armors. M9 Star Knights."

"Congratulations," Hans says, nodding approvingly. "I had heard the URS recently supplied us with them,"

"Who?"

Hans dismisses the notion with a wave.

"Just one of our allies,"

"We have allies?" Nessa says, tilting her head towards Hans. "That's surprising,"

"I don't think it is," Hans says, raising an eyebrow. "But yes, we do,"

"We haven't gotten deployment orders yet," Nessa says, gazing out at the black void. "When do we destroy the Xurama Fleets?"

Hans looks at her reflection in the window. She stares at his. The stars twinkle beyond the glass.

"Very soon Nessa. The Hyperion hammer is about to fall,"

-End of Chapter 21-

 

[Lop]

Admiral Hans Raemen of the 1st Hyperion Regulatory Fleet sits in his chair in the command chamber of the new Mannking-Class Capital Ship Rex Dominus. The newly purchased warship orbits the planet Yci in the system Agreon, as does the rest of 3rd squadron, whose numbers have been replenished since the surprise attack around Jasule.

3rd Squadron is not alone. The entirety of the Hyperion fleet is spread out in the orbit of the gas giant. Close to eleven thousand assorted frigates, cruisers, battleships and capital ships. Warships ranging from refurbished Tritan vessels to newtypes courtesy of a host of private shipyards.

For now, the fleet simply hangs in the outer gravity well of the gas giant. An unusually thick asteroid belt around the planet obscures the ships from prying eyes. Orange clouds swirl underneath them.

The doors to the command center slide open. Vice Admiral Kramp and Major Annwhick step into the chamber, the other technicians and officers saluting. Kramp motions them at ease as he leads the Major to Han's chair.

"Ah good, you're here," Hans says, turning to them. "I'm about to hail Admiral Zamprhy, and I wanted to discuss some things before I do,"

"Of course sir," Vice Admiral Kramp says, coming to a stop in front of the chair. Major Annwhick does as well, her expression unreadable under her silver mask.

"We've got a bit of a personnel problem," Admiral Raemen says, motioning with his hand. In response, a hologram appears floating in the air between the trio. The light projection shows numeric figures and graphs. "The recent influx of mechanoid soldiers, as well as our cloning program, has seen at least forty percent of our ground forces replaced, freeing up millions of men and women."

Hans points at two of the graphs, as well as a number showing the amount of decommissioned soldiers.

"Now," The Admiral continues. "These people will fill in for some of our younger and more elderly crew members, allowing the most vulnerable of our population off the front lines. The question is, what do we do with them?"

"You're asking how safe it is for them to leave the fleet," Major Annwhick says, her silver mask reflecting the flickering hologram.

"What do you mean?" Vice Admiral Kramp says, putting a hand to his chin. "Is it not safe to put all the children and grandparents on our most secure planet?"

"We don't have a secure planet," Hans says. "Every planet in our territory is susceptible to infiltration. This is true for every planet in the former Tritan systems. In fact, we're currently executing a multitude of successful operations against the Xurama Regulatory fleet because they've deployed their ground forces to planets in their territory,"

"That makes sense I suppose," Vice Admiral Kramp says. "They can't attack us if we're not on any planets. But how do we keep our resupply stations secure? They are secure are they not?"

"That is a problem we haven't quite figure out," Hans says, threading his fingers as he gazes at the hologram. "We do have a heavy defensive presence in a few key cities and orbital stations. We expect the Xurama will attempt to disrupt these,"

"But if we keep the elderly and young on the ships, they might perish during battle,"

"Hm," Hans says, nodding. "We're about to perform our first major fleet maneuver against the Xuramma territory. I need to come to a decision and pass along my vote to Admiral Zamphry,"

"Is there not one planet we can completely secure?" Vice Admiral Kramp says, rubbing his chin.

"Not without dedicating valuable ships to its orbit. We need every ship we can get, and they need to be operating together. Jasule taught us a harsh lesson about separating the fleet,"

"Yes," Major Annwhick says. "It would seem our only option is keep them aboard our most powerful ships,"

"That would be my ship Major," Hans says, gesturing around the command chamber. "You are aware of the Rex Dominus's capabilities, your division procured it. Should I host a large majority of our more vulnerable population?"

Neither the Vice Admiral or the Major answer. The hum of the command chamber, as well the murmur of the other officers, fills the silence.

"I suppose that's our best option," Vice Admiral Kramp says, his brow furrowed.

"I agree," Major Annwhick says.

"Very well then," Admiral Raemen says, taping something on his chair. The hologram figures disappear. A moment later, Vice Admiral Picketts of the 5th squadron appears in its place, his form shimmering as the projectors adjust.

"Greets Admiral," Picketts says, bowing slightly. "Would you like to speak with Admiral Zamprhy?"

"Please,"

The Vice Admiral disappears, and Zamphry's form springs up. He's clutching a pipe to his stomach, his generous mustache rolling out from either side of his face.

"Ah, Admiral Raemen, I was hoping you'd hail me soon,"

"Forgive me for keeping you," Hans says, nodding. "I needed to think on my decision a bit,"

"Hm, the other Admirals are inclined to keep the decommissioned members aboard the fleet,"

"It's dangerous," Hans begins, pausing. "But it seems our only option,"

"You are in agreement then, good," Zamphry says, raising his pipe to his mouth and taking a puff. "We'll start the transfer immediately. You understand of course the majority will be moved to your vessel,"

"Of course,"

"Excellent Admiral. After we've completed the operation, we'll begin the real one,"

The next five hours are spent transfering a couple billion young and elderly to several of the larger battleships and capital ships. The Rex Dominus is filled with anxious energy and hallways full of people being directed to the inner levels of the ship.

Hans watches the interior of his ship through several view screens in the command chamber. His staff are doing an adequate job keeping the peace. The children and elderly seem to be settling in.

"Sir," A comms officer says, looking up from her station. "I've got incoming hails from the other squadrons,"

"Pull them up," Hans says, getting comfortable in his chair. Vice Admiral Kramp and Major Annwhick take their place on either side.

Hologram projections of the other Admirals appear in front of Han's chair. Admiral Kirkland wastes no time.

"The Xurama forces in the Urjax system have fold-jumped to Cama-Ki," Kirkland says, leaning forward. "The Xurama Regulatory fleet is no longer divided,"

"They know we're coming," Admiral Wort says, his prosthetic eye flaring red.

"Even united we still outnumber them," Admiral Fulsuv says. "It's a rather large risk though. If we lose, we lose everything,"

"Not to mention the matter of what happens if we destroy the Ptholem's pawn," Admiral Zamphry says, stroking his mustache. "We could be inviting our doom,"

"Every second we allow the Xurama to exist is a second they could annihilate all of us," Admiral Kirkland says. "I'm willing to gamble the billions of lives we have in this fleet, not because I have no feelings, but because I have faith in our crews and our ships,"

The other Admirals are silent for a moment.

"Not all of us are willing to make that gamble," Hans says. He shares a look with Admiral Zamphry's projection. "Not to mention what has been said about us knocking out our major rival. What would be the Security Council's reaction?"

"Do we care?" Admiral Kirkland says, gesturing with a hand. "We're backed by the URS, whose hatred of the Ptolem will forever ensure our survival,"

"Until they stop backing us," Admiral Zamphry says, accepting his pipe from someone off-hologram. "Politics on any level is a fickle beast. We must not assume we will always have Romus support,"

"We have a choice," Admiral Wort says, banging his cane. The sound travels through the speakers around Han's chair. "Gamble everything and strike now, or wait and invite a prolonged conflict. We'll take a vote between the Admirals. All opposed to striking, raise your hand,"

None of the Admirals raise their hands. They glance at Hans, as if waiting. Wort's good eye hovers on him for a moment, then he nods.

"All in favor,"

One by one, the Admirals raise their hands. Hans is the last to raise his, but he does raise it.

"Very well then," Wort says. "Give the order, we're attacking immediately,"

The holograms of the Admirals cut out. Vice Admiral Kramp takes a step forward, cupping his mouth.

"Batttttllllleeee-statttiooonnnsss!"

An alarm sounds in the command chamber, as well as the rest of the Rex Dominus. The 1st Hyperion Fleet shifts away from the gravity well of the gas giant.

"Engaging dimensional engines," An officer says, tapping away at their console.

"Lowering anchor shield," Another calls.

"Engines are powering on,"

"Our location has been confirmed,"

"Ships are linked, preparing to fold-jump,"

Hans stares at a massive view-screen on one end of the command chamber. It flashes, displaying the outside view of the ship.

"Ten seconds," Major Annwhick says.

"Pardon," Hans says, looking at her/ She still stands to the side of his chair, staring straight ahead at the viewscreen. Her silver mask reflects several stars.

"After we jump," she continues. "There are ten seconds before our anchor shields activate,"

"Ten seconds is a long time," Hans says, still staring at her mask. "Long enough for them to get a lock on our location,"

"And fold-jump payloads into all our ships," The Major says, giving a slight nod. "It's just something to be aware of,"

Hans doesn't say anything, staring back ahead. He checks the fleet jump coordinates with a wave of his hand.

"Well," Hans says, dismissing the readout. "It appears Wort or Kirland is being rather cautious with the jump. We'll have a planet between ourselves and the enemy,"

"Proximity and cover don't matter," Annwhick says. "If they have a single satellite with line of a sight and a few good computers, they can wipe us out if they're quick enough,"

"Quite a gamble then," Hans says, shifting in his chair. "Especially considering this is our first major D-tech test,"

"We're fold-jumping!" An officer yells.

The space outside the command chamber viewscreen blinks. New star patterns appear. The process is almost instantaneous.

"That was," Vice Admiral Kramp begins, pausing. "Incredible. Are we...are we there already?"

"It would be appear so," Admiral Raemen says, staring at the viewscreen. A single massive planet hangs in the distance.

"Ten seconds," Major Annwhick repeats.

Hans waits, sitting in his chair. A nervous energy runs through the chamber. The other crew present are aware of the danger.

"Anchor shields have activated!" An officer yells from his console.

"That's it then," Admiral Hans says. "Move with the other squadrons, we're attacking immediately,"

The 1st Hyperion fleet, all eleven thousand ships, blasts forward, their engines flaring. The ships build speed, going faster and faster as the fleet hurtles towards the distant planet.

"We've established visual contact!" An officer yells. "Ships have been identified coming around the eastern side of the planet!"

"We're getting orders to go faster," Another officer yells.

"Oblige the order," Hans calls, settling back in his seat. "We need to keep up with the rest of the fleet,"

The planet grows bigger. More and more of the Xurama fleet appears around the eastern side.

"Cluster-Spiral 5!" Vice Admiral Kramp yells.

"Vice Admiral," Hans says, a bemused expression on his face. "You're forgetting the new AI command,"

"Yes, right," Vice Admiral Kramp says, then adopts a serious expression. "But I don't trust AI's. Counter-programs can unravel the entire structure,"

"We've been assured this AI is...different," Hans says. "Our benefactors are on the cutting edge of netsphere warfare,"

"We're approaching weapon's range!" An officer calls.

A massive hologram appears above Han's chair. The planet, as well as the emerging Xurama fleet, are detailed with colored shapes and blinking indicators. The two sides approaching each other look like waves of shapes.

Lance-batteries rumble to life all across the Hyperion fleet. They unleash concentrated beams of energy, bright lines crossing the space between the fleets.

The Xurama fire their laser weapons as well.

"Forty frigates have sustained significant damage!" An officer calls.

"We have three cruisers that are also in critical condition!"

"Maintain speed," Hans says.

"Maintain speed!" Vice Admiral Kramp calls. "Keep up the assault!"

"Approaching missile and kinetic range!"

"Firing laser arrays!"

The Hyperion and Xurama fleets exchange another series of bright flashes and lines. Several frigates and cruisers in the 3rd squadron go offline, their systems cooked along with the crew.

"We're in range!" An officer yells.

"Fire!" Kramp yells.

Millions of missiles and kinetic shells are unleashed between the two fleets. Ships explode in silent spectacles, their bright orange flares quickly flickering out.

"We're maintaining full speed," Major Annwhick observes.

"Indeed," Hans says. "It's an all or nothing rush while they come around the planet,"

"We're approaching particle cannon range!"

"Aim for big targets," Hans says.

"Find a capital ship!" Vice Admiral Kramp yells to the crew. "Bring it down when we're in range!"

The new A.I finds a suitable target as the two fleets exchange their third volley of lasers. The shrinking space between the two sides adds to the destructure power of the concentrated energy. Hundreds of frigates and cruisers go offline as they fall victim to the bright lines. The Rex Dominus itself shakes, though the reactive armor dispenses the lasers that find it.

"Firing particle cannons!" An officer yells.

The Rex Dominus fires its four particle cannons. The hologram display above Han's chair shows a distant ship exploding.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" And officer yells.

One of the Xurama battleships strikes the Rex Dominus with its particle cannons. The pulsating beams tear jagged chunks through the capital ship, piercing several layers of the outer hulls.

"Decks ninety through seventy-five have been breached in two locations!" An officer calls. A new siren starts up, as well as a flashing red light. "Significant damage to forward starboard sensor arrays. Reports of casualties incoming!"

"Seal those decks!"

"The enemies first missile volley has arrived!" An officer calls.

The Hyperion Fleet's kinetic shields activate, absorbing the millions of rounds fired by the Xurama fleet. The two sides exchange the next round of lasers, as well as more missiles and kinetic rounds. The particle cannons rumble as they recharge within the Rex Dominus.

"We're getting too close," Major Annwick says, shifting. She almost seems anxious under her mask. "This is a suicide run,"

Hans consults a screen on the side of his chair, then leans towards Vice Admiral Kramp.

"We're in starfighter range, launch ours,"

"Yes sir," Kramp says, straightening back up. He raises his voice as he calls to the officers in the command chamber. "Launch all starfighters!"

The two fleets are now growing alarmingly close. Such a maneuver is unheard of.

The viewscreen in the command chamber fills with millions of starfighters launching out in front of the fleet. They race forward, dodging the next wave of missiles and kinetic rounds with ease.

The Xurama launch their own starfighters. The two swarms of ships clash in the small space remaining between the two fleets. Thousands of tiny explosions start to flare up.

"Particle cannons charged!"

"Target found!" Another officer calls.

"Open fire!"

The 1st Hyperion fleet barrels down on the Xurama warships. The Xurama find themselves pressed against the planet's gravity well, and slowly approach the incoming Hyperion ships to meet them.

The Rex Dominus fires its particle cannons, slicing apart another battleship. The next wave of enemy missiles and kinetic rounds hits the shields. The starfighters continue to arc around each other.

Suddenly, the two fleets are upon each other.

"SIR!" An officer yells as the Xurama ships grow closer and closer. "ORDERS!"

"FIND TARGETS AND DESTROY THEM!" Hans bellows back.

The Hyperion and Xurama find themselves in an unprecedented battle, fighting in a proximity that is never achieved. Every laser battery that fires finds its mark instantly, sometimes going through multiple ships. The kinetic shields fail under the sheer onslaught of passing ships.

"DAMAGE IN LEVELS SEVENTY THROUGH FIFTY-SIX!" An officer yells, gripping their station as the capital ship shakes.

"WE'VE GOT SHIPWIDE CRITICAL FAILURES!"

"Do not let up!" Hans yells. "Continue firing!"

The Rex Dominus unleashes its weapons on neighboring enemy ships. They break apart under the capital ship's weapons. Starfighters and Mobile Armors fill the space between the passing fleets, buzzing around each other like frenzied beasts.

The command chamber shakes as the capital ship takes more fire. Red circles identify the rapidly rising number of ships that have been destroyed on both sides.

"We're breaking through!" An officer calls. "Orders?"

Hans checks his chair screen, consulting the other Admiral's via mind-link through the new A.I.

"Turn around in a maximum field arc," Hans says.

"Initiate maximum field arc turn!" Vice Admiral Kramp repeats to the others.

The Hyperion fleet slowly turns. The Xurama are forced to do the same. Both fleets are poised to entangle once more at terrifying proximity.

"Will we survive another flyby at this range?" Major Annwhick says.

"We have found ourselves fighting for our lives in this one," Admiral Raemen says. "It's slaughter or be slaughtered it would seem,"

The two sides close in once more. The starfighters and mobile armors blast back and forth, dancing around each other and filling the space with countless debris.

The Rex Dominus shakes as the enemy attacks it relentlessly. Alarms blare, and damage reports flare up before Han's chair. The capital ship fires back, tearing into the Xurama ships and blowing them apart.

The viciousness of the secondary pass finds a winner.

The 1st Hyperion Regulatory Fleet has wiped out the Xurama Regulatory Fleet.

The few remaining enemy ships indicate their surrender. Damage reports and readouts pop up everywhere in the command center. The viewscreen shows a never-ending parade of ship pieces and flickering fires.

Hans slowly sinks in his chair.

"Unbelievable," He says, breathing out. "We won,"

"By numbers alone it would seem," Major Annwhick says, studying the damage readouts.

Hans straightens back up in his chair, turning to his Vice Admiral.

"Begin emergency operations in the breached decks. I want all survivors found and casualties accounted for,"

"Yes sir," Kramp says, jogging over to an officer.

Hans slowly turns back to the hologram in front of him, watching the AI highlight damaged ships. The debris of the thousands of destroyed ships continues to pass outside the viewscreen.

"We lost many," Hans says, studying the figures.

"The number of enemy ships present suggests this was the entirety of the Xurama fleet," Major Annwhick says.

"Hm, we may have removed them completely,"

The Major shifts, her expression unreadable under her silver mask.

"This could change things significantly,"

"I agree Major," Hans says, still studying the figures. "Though I'm worried about what that might entail,"

-End of Chapter 22-

 

[Lop]

Dot shifts in her seat as the transport ship slowly takes off. She and the other commandos sit silently, the battle stims buzzing in their heads. The planet disappears underneath, obscured by dark red clouds.

"Approaching the Rex Dominus," AI 432-5 announces.

"Battle report, recent fleet engagement," Dot says aloud.

"I'm sorry sergeant, you'll have to obtain that from Lieutenant Hannenbaun,"

Dot's face adopts a scowl. Olif, strapped into the seat next to her, looks up at the ceiling.

"I mean we know we won," Olif says. Dot doesn't respond, and Olif clears his throat. "We know that we won..."

"I need to know if my brother and Eena are alive," Dot says. "Now shut up corporal,"

"Yes sir," Olif says, looking straight ahead.

"Five," Dot calls again. "Battle report, recent fleet engagement. You know what I want,"

"I'm sorry sergeant-"

"C'mon Five," Dot calls. "I can't handle this kind of bullshit right now,"

"C'mon Five!" Another commando calls. "Give sarg what she wants!"

"Yeah five," Another says. "You're supposed to be on our side,"

"There are no sides soldiers," AI 432-5 says in everyone's mindlink. Her voice is soft, but stern. "We are all in this together. My withholding of information is a matter of keeping the lives of all who depend on the fleet safe,"

The commandos are silent for a beat.

"That...makes sense I suppose," Dot says. "Okay...Five...well, still, if you could tell us about our loved ones, that would mean a lot to us. To me,"

"Yeah Five, just tell us if our families are alive," Olif calls.

"C'mon Five!" Another commando calls.

"Aren't you a part of the 4th Green?" Dot says.

"If you are trying to guilt me in some manner, I would remind you I am an artificial intelligence,"

The calls continue. Suddenly everyone's HUD get's an encrypted message. The commandos fall silent. They open them up via their mindlinks.

They're casualty reports.

Most of the commandos' families survived. Not all, but most.

Dot sees that Reese and Eena are alive, and sinks in her seat against the harness. She clears her throat.

"Thank you Five,"

The other commandos nod, some of them thanking the AI as well. A few break down into tears. One of them bangs his chest in anguish.

The transport ship breaks away from the atmosphere. Space opens up on the viewscreen towards the front of the cabin. Dot's gaze is drawn from the casualty report to the scene out in space.

The 1st Hyperion Fleet waits beyond. It is significantly smaller than Dot remembers. The other commandos glance at it as well.

"Maybe it's not the whole fleet," Olif says, watching the viewscreen.

"No," Dot says. "That's what's left,"

"We're screwed then," Olif says, shaking his head. "I mean, that can't be more than six thousand ships,"

The transport ship reaches the fleet formation, passing between frigates and cruisers. Some retain the scorch marks of lasers. Others have holes torn in them from missiles and kinetic rounds.

The ships disappear, replaced with the interior of a hanger. The transport ships docks in a clamp, the cabin shaking as the arms lock into place. The commandos wait as a docking tunnel extends towards them.

The docking tunnel locks into place, and the doors swish open. The commandos unbuckle themselves and stand up, gathering their things. Dot slings her bag over her shoulder and grabs her helmet. She then walks off the ships.

"Hey," Olif says, jogging after her.

"Hey," Dot says, walking purposefully across the docking tunnel.

"You going to see your family?"

"Yeah," Dot says, turning slightly to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't ask. Did yours make it?"

"Yeah, I'm going to go check on them soon," Olif says, passing with Dot from the tunnel into the ship proper. The hall they enter has several groups of officers and plain-clothed crew moving along it.

"But maybe later," Olif says. "You and me could hit the decom-sims. You know, after you visit with your family,"

Dot turns on Olif, tilting her head.

"I thought I told you to knock that shit off,"

"Yeah but, sergeant," Olif says, lowering his voice. "I mean, c'mon, we set a nanite swarm on a tower full of soldiers and civilian workers,"

"After they used it on us," Dot says, her voice growing cold. She presses a finger to Olif's chest. "You got a problem with the way I lead 4th Green corporal?"

"I'm...sorry, sergeant" Olif says, taking a step back. "It's Five, she really cares about...she talks to me all the time, about you. Especially since that last mission.."

"I told you once, I'll tell you again," Dot says. "You and Five need to stay the fuck out of business. That is an order. Do I make myself clear Corporal? Five? I want to hear from both of you,"

"Yes sir," Olif says, nodding.

Dot waits a beat.

"Five?" She says, putting a hand to her hip.

"I have heard what you said Sergeant Dot," Five says, her voice echoing through Dot and Olif's mindlink. "But I'd prefer for the sake of your health if you complied with the standard debriefing protocols,"

"I gave you an order Five, see that you comply with that. Mindlink off,"

Dot's connection to the Fleet netsphere cuts out, and she hears nothing but the buzz of the hallway she's in. Olif gives her a worried look.

"Enough," Dot says, putting a hand on Olif's shoulder. "Go see your family,"

"Yes sergeant,"

Dot turns away and walks along the hall. She can feel Olif's eyes on her as she goes, until she disappears around a corner and reaches a transport-tube. She rides it into the inner levels of the Rex Dominus.

She shares the tube with two other women. They glance at Dot in her exo-braces, which she hasn't bothered to take off.

"Are you a soldier," One of the women asks, glancing at the 4th Green insignia on Dot's shoulder plate. A flash of anger crosses Dot's face, but when she turns on the women, Dot sees they look just as tired and anxious as she does. The vitriol in her dies down, and Dot nods.

"Yeah, you guys?"

"I'm a navigation officer," One of the women says, a small smile on her face. "Though I'm off-duty,"

"I'm infantry logistics," The other woman says. "Also off-duty,"

"Hey, logistics," Dot says, nodding at the woman. "You know anything about the commando AI's?"

"Well sure," The woman says. "Our department has to be fluid, everyone has to know at least a little about everything,"

"What's the unknown AI," Dot says. "Our's just linked with it, and now it's getting chatty,"

"Oh, yes," The woman says, nodding. "The Admirals got ahold of a new A.I. I can't say much obviously, but it's, quite different than anything we're used to. It's strengthening all the battle AI's as well,"

"I see..." Dot says, the tube coming to a stop. The doors slide open, and Dot moves to get off.

"Hey, wait," The logistics officer says, grabbing Dot's arm. "You seem cool, let's get drinks in the secondary mess some time,"

Dot raises an eyebrow, looking down at the woman's hand. She slowly moves away, but nods as she does.

"Yeah, okay. My netID is 20-5903,"

The woman types it into her netcard, then both of them wave as the doors shut. Dot watches the transport tube take off, disappearing further into the ship. She turns away, walking along the new hall in the inner level. There are more families here; younger children and the infirm. Dot spies them as she passes the multitude of barrack-style rooms with their doors open.

"Dot!" A voice yells.

She turns, looking around, then spies Reese. He jogs over to her and they embrace, hugging tightly.

"Ahhh it's good to see you Reese!" Dot says, her voice cracking. "I was worried when I heard about the battle!"

Reese nods solemnly.

"It was bad, our ships flew close to their ships and that made the battle end quickly,"

"Hm," Dot says. "Well I'm glad you're alive. "Where's Eena?"

Reese looks around the hall. There's a few other families moving about, and lots of voices echo out from the rooms with the open doors. Reese looks back at Dot and shrugs.

"She's around somewhere I'm sure, she knows you're coming today,"

He raises his hand, brushing some dirt on her exo-brace.

"You gonna take these off?"

Dot straightens up.

"Eh, I don't know, I'm pretty far from a locker room right now,"

"No one's gonna take it," Reese says, laughing. "All the guys who steal work on the outer levels,"

"Oh is that right?"

"Yup, the center is where the officers and all the command stuff is, so that's the most secure,"

"Well I guess that kind of makes sense," Dot says. "But that's probably only true on big ships like this one,"

"Maybe," Reese says, shrugging.

A commotion breaks out down the hall, at a distant intersection. Dot can her a girl screaming, and she starts to move towards it. She recognizes the voice.

"Let GO!" The girl screams. "LET GO OF ME!"

Dot sees a girl struggling against a soldier who holds her in place. Dot sees it's Eena, and the commando sergeant breaks into a run.

"Eena!" Dot yells.

The girl stops yelling, opening her eyes and looking at Dot.

"Dot!" Eena yells, reaching out for her. "Help! They took his face! they TOOK HIS FACE!"

"What?" Dot says, coming to a halt and turning on the soldier. There's an entire squad there, all wearing their battle-gear.

Dot freezes.

All the soldiers standing before her are Bart.

"W-what," Dot says, taking a step back. She glances down at Eena, then grips her and tears her away from the soldier's grasp. "get aWAY FROM HER," Dot yells, putting Eena behind her. Reese catches up to the scene, then slows and stops. His eyes grow wide as he gazes at the soldiers who all look like Bart.

"They took his face!" Eena sobs, banging on Dot's back. "Why Dot! Why'd they take it!"

Dot narrows her eyes, staring down the squad of men who look like Bart. They all stand at six feet, their eyes both familiar and alien.

"What's going on here!" A voice yells.

A man marches up wearing a Lieutenant's insignia and cap. He comes to a stop between the Barts and Dot and Eena.

"Sergeant Dot," Dot says, throwing a salute. "4th Green Commando,"

"At ease sergeant," The Lieutenant says, clearing his throat. "Your unit does good work, as do all the commandos,"

"SIR," Dot says, practically yelling. "What is this!"

She throws out a hand, singling out one of the men with Bart's face.

"Sergeant, that's one of our A.D.A.M soldiers, clones,"

"Sir, they're wearing our friend's face! Her brother's!"

Dot gestures at Eena, who's still hiding behind her. The ADAM clones say nothing, simply staring at the lieutenant. The man looks from the ADAMs, back to Dot, then slowly nods.

"I see, well then, that must mean your friend was one of the candidates for the program,"

"You mean..." Dot says.

"Yes, they cloned him many millions of times,"

Dot looks from the lieutenant, back to the ADAM clones. She slowly turns, taking hold of Eena's shoulders.

"Let's get out of here," She says, her voice low.

"Why do they have his face?" Eena says, pressing her forehead into Dot's stomach. "Why?"

"It's...impossible to explain. And...I can't do it right now. Let's go get some food,"

Eena hugs Dot tightly.

"I want him back," Eena says. "I miss him so much Dot. Why do they have to look like him?"

"I know plump," Dot says, hugging her back. She strokes Eena's hair, reassuring her. "I miss him too,"

Dot holds Eena for a few moment, then straightens up. The lieutenant and the clones are gone, having moved on. Dot clears her throat, then takes Eena's hand.

"Come on, big sister's gonna find someone to bribe for a cone of sugar-ice,"

Eena doesn't say anything, following Dot as she leads her towards Reese. Dot holds out her hand as they pass Reese, and he takes it as well. Together they walk down the hall, past the doors that echo with the sounds of families.

-End of Chapter 23-

 

[Lop]

The doors of the transport-tube slide open, revealing Admiral Hans Raemen and Vice-Admiral Kramp of 3rd squadron. They walk off it, the crew and officers in the hallway throwing salutes.

Hans nods "at ease" to them as he passes, and Kramp repeats the gesture behind him. The command chamber within the Rex Dominus lies ahead, its imposing double-steel doors guarded by six mechanoid soldiers. Their red oculus tubes click and whirr as they zero in on the approaching officers.

"Greetings Admiral," One of them says, its voice hollow and cold.

Hans doesn't say anything as he passes them. The door opens, and the Admiral and Vice-Admiral step into the buzzing chamber full of officers, screens and consols.

"Admiral on deck!" Vice Admiral Kramp calls. The officers and techs turn and throw salutes, holding them as Hans moves towards the center.

"At ease," Hans call, his voice echoing around the chamber. He stops in the center, turning to the room. The officers and techs watch him, waiting. "I know," Hans begins. He pauses, looking to the side. Finally he turns back to the room. "I know there are some among this ship who no longer trust the leadership of this fleet. Perhaps there are even some of those people in this room. The decisions and choices the High Command makes, are made with the best available resources and information we have. We have one goal, and that it to destroy those who would destroy us first. I think most of you understand that. But in case there are some listening who can no longer carry out the duties of their station in good faith, speak now or speak never. I will not punish you. But I need people who believe in our survival in this room. That is what this fleet needs,"

The command room doesn't move. The silence stretches on.

"Very well," Hans says, nodding. "I thank you all for your service,"

The Admiral gestures at a tech, who presses some buttons and brings up a table from the floor. Holograms flicker to life. Hans takes a seat at the table, Kramp sitting next to him. The other Admirals and Vice Admiral appear in the empty seats via hologram.

"Admiral Raemen," Admiral Wort says, tapping the top of his cane. "I'm glad you finally decided to join us,"

"Forgive my tardiness," Hans says, getting comfortable in his chair. "I was gauging the mood of my ship,"

"Hm," Wort says, slightly less hostile. "We have a secure netlink with our new liason in the Alliance Security Council, I'm bringing her to the table,"

An empty seat flickers, then a hologram projection of a woman wearing strange robes appears. She's tall and imposing, and the robes are intricately patterned.

"Masi Bell," Admiral Wort says, gripping his cane as he rests in his chair. "What news from the Alliance,"

"Admirals," She says, her voice low and powerful. "I am pleased to join you. I have just returned from several emergency sessions between the Alliance Security Council members. I have been called upon at length to explain and give account for all actions of the regulatory fleet,"

"Yes I'm sure it was unpleasant," Wort says, picking at something in his teeth with his pinky. "Will they be taking action in any official capacity?"

"There have been several votes, especially in the beginning. The URS stubbornly refused to endorse any direct military action, especially in light of the losses you suffered against the Xurama. The Ptolem Empire voted for strong military action and the Ubrezan Dynasty, Haladjinn Republic, and Meridian Kingdom supported it. The Guntex Federation abstained."

"They're all turning against us," Admiral Zamphry says, shaking his head.

"That was the initial voting," Masi Bell continues. "But things are changing. The Occupation zone netsphere has been suffering attacks from unknown parties. Financial crisis are starting to grip some of the system. Moreso, four of the remaining regulatory fleets have joined together with the stated intention of ending the threat you pose to the occupation zone,"

The Admirals don't speak, the buzzing of the holograms filling the silence around the table. Admiral Wort shifts, and Hans can tell he already knew.

"The Arsogoth Regulatory fleet," Admiral Wort says. "The Neros Regulatory fleets, the Yama Regulatory fleets and the Kewenda,"

"We can't possibly take them all on," Admiral Fulsuv says, a look of shock upon his face.

"Yes yes," Wort says, dismissing the notion. His good eyes locks onto Masi Bell. "So what has the Security Council decided,"

"The general sentiment is to allow whatever befalls you, to befall you," The woman answers, her figure poised. "A simple matter of waiting and observing, and hoping all this conflict takes care of itself,"

"Very well then," Wort says. "Anything else? When is the next meeting?"

"They haven't decided yet, though likely in a couple cycles,"

"Keep us informed," The older Admiral says. Masi Bell nods in response, and her hologram disappears from the table. The men and women left share looks.

"Once again, we are on our own," Admiral Zamphry says, sighing as he accepts his pipe from someone off-hologram. "And now our enemy is four times our size,"

"More than that," Hans says. "We lost thousands of ships, as well as the trust of our people,"

"Yes," Admiral Wort says, clearing his throat. "That is as good an excuse as any to talk about the obvious. As I'm sure you're all aware, there are those within this fleet who have decided they no longer wish to crew the ships,"

"Not very many," Admiral Fulsuv says. "At least not on my vessels,"

"To be sure, the most vocal are less than 5%," Admiral Wort says. "But their sentiment can spread,"

"We won," Admiral Kirkland says dryly. "Can they not be satisfied with the destruction of the Xurama?"

"Our maneuvers in the previous battle were brash and aggressive," Admiral Zamphry says. He strokes his mustache as his hologram speaks. "We won, but at a steep price,"

"Everything we did was necessary. The usage of D-tech changes the nature of warfare. We can now appear in the same system as another fleet in a moment. This will naturally lead to closer engagements,"

"Then we need to adjust our doctrine," Hans says. "Or invest in better shields. The people who are protesting do so because they have lost loved ones. And to be quite frank, we cannot afford to replenish our losses like we have previously. How we are going to defend ourselves against the four new enemies we've earned is anyone's guess,"

"I assure you Admiral Raemen," Wort says. "The URS still supports us. We will buy new ships,"

Hans turns in his seat towards Wort.

"I was under the impression they were threatening to cut their support,"

"They were," Wort says, his prosthetic eye swiveling around its socket. "But the Ptolem are behind these so-called "Unified Peace Fleets". They're supplying them just like they supplied the Xurama. Moreso. They're now wholly convinced of the threat we pose. And the Haladjinn may send in support as well,"

"Ah, of course," Admiral Zamphry says. "The Ptolem are not waiting on the Security Council, they're taking things into their own hands. We are alone against so many. How much of the URS's support do we have?"

"We will get to that," Wort says, nodding. "But first, what do we do with these dissenters?"

"What do they want?" Admiral Fulsuv says.

"They want to leave the fleet with their families," Hans says. "Find a planet and settle,"

"That's...absurd," Kirkland says, a hint of his youth appearing as he scoffs. "Where would they go? They don't have citizenship, and I would rather die than go back to being a resident-class,"

"You maybe," Admiral Zamphry says. "But you forget this fleet has no warriors or soldiers save the ones we created. These people did not choose this life. Many are not cut out for it,"

"Well..." Kirkland says, looking around at the other Admirals. "What other options do they have? Do they have a planet in mind?"

"We've heard several ideas from the more vocal," Hans says.

"It doesn't matter," Admiral Wort says. "We cannot spare them. The battle with the Xurama robbed us of trained crew and officers. We have few replacements,"

"So then we're going to keep the dissenters onboard. By force?"

"Nothing so barbaric," Wort says, dismissing the notion with a gesture. "We just need to convince them that they won't last two seconds outside the protection of the fleet. Which is true, I think we're all keenly aware,"

"Will they last inside the fleet?" Hans says. "We've lost almost five-thousand ships. We can't replace those losses without absurd amounts of support from the URS, and even if we had it, how are we going to keep finding replacements for the crew? All the humans in the sector are already aboard,"

"There is no question of where the humans of Balos and her sister planets will survive," Wort says, banging his cane. "We have no rights in any territory, nor history. Wherever we try to settle, there will be someone to impose extraction upon us, and that is if we are not simply killed. But what Admiral Raemen says is true. We cannot afford to fight our enemies as we did the Xurama. That was too costly a victory,"

"I'm still curious as to how we plan to fight the unified fleets," Admiral Zamphry says. "We would need enormous amounts of capital to rebuild the fleets,"

"Fleet Intelligence has been hard at work meeting with representatives of the URS," Admiral Wort says. "We have been given a black box,"

There's a few gasps at the table. Hans is one of them.

"A...black box?" Hans says. He processes this information.

"That's essentially money without limit," Admiral Zamphry, sitting back in his chair.

"And yet it still won't be enough," Admiral Wort snaps. "Listen up, all of you. We will rebuild this fleet once more, and then face the greatest opposition to our existence we have faced yet. As it has been mentioned, we cannot fight as we've fought before. We must ramp up our operations on all fronts, and overwhelm the enemy before they destroy us. And we must do so with portions of this fleet wanting to abandon ship. Admirals, get your ships in order, quell the dissention anyway you must, and then prepare for the next stage of our struggle,"

The room is silent as everyone processes this.

"Are we being assigned tasks again?" Admiral Fulsuv says.

"Yes, I'll have my staff send you our division of labor," Admiral Wort says. "We all have much to do,"

One by one, the Admirals all cut out. Hans and Vice Admiral Kramp are left alone at the table. Hans watches as the table folds in on itself, then recedes into the floor.

"I've got our duties here," Vice Admiral Kramp says, checking his datapad. "Mostly more D-Tech research and development,"

"Excellent," Hans says, his attention elsewhere. He waves away his Vice Admiral. "Take care of things here, I'm going to retire for a bit,"

"Yes sir," Kramp says, saluting.

Hans walks down the hall, dismissing everyone who stops to salute. He rides the lift-tube down several levels, stopping on the floor that houses the 3rd Squadron Fleet Intelligence division. Hans finds Major Annwhick inside, consulting a hologram projection with several other officers. They turn and salute him as he approaches, and he waves them away.

"Major," Hans says.

"Admiral,"

"Would you like to join me for dinner?" Hans says. "I'm feeling rather melancholy,"

Major Annwhick's expression is unreadible under her silver mask, but she tilts her head slightly.

"Are you asking or ordering?"

Hans concedes the point with a nod.

"I'll admit it's a bit in violation of command structure, but I was a system analyst before I was an Admiral. I still have the apron I wore in my shop. We're just the people of Balos playing at being warriors in space. I'm not asking you as Admiral Raemen. I'm asking you as Hans,"

"Well, I'm inclined to disagree with most of that," Major Annwhick says. "But...I will take you up on that offer for dinner,"

"Excellent Major Annwhick, I'm pleased to hear it,"

"If you're asking me as Hans, than you may call me by my name, Anna,"

Hans smiles.

"Very well Anna, I look forward to this evening,"

-End of Chapter 23-

 

[Lop]

The numbers on the gauges rise rapidly as Nessa grips the controls. Her seat shakes as she continues to accelerate, pushing her M9 Star Knight as fast as its vetra-sibaur ring-engine will allow. The Mobile Armor streaks one way, then another, curving and bending against the forces of extreme propulsion in zero-g.

A slow caravan of freighter ships string towards a nearby planet. Nessa guides her controls towards the ships, lining up her route-scope.

"Lieutenant Neganta!" A voice crackles over her comms. It's Liko, her squadmate. "We've lost track of you, give us a position!"

Nessa let's go of one of the controls and flips a few switches, bringing her mic close to her mouth.

"Lieutenant Liko," Nessa says, putting her hand back on the controls. She angles her Mobile Armor and performs several spins as she barrels down on the caravan. "You need to acquaint yourself with the new models. Seek me out and catch up,"

Nessa pushes the throttle, egging the ring-engine faster. Suddenly the freighter ships are in front of her, and Nessa pulls back on the controls. She pumps her feet, being directly linked to the Mobile Armor. It twists, twirling between two ships and then arcing around and cutting off another.

The freighters begin hailing her in panic, but Nessa ignores them. She continues to weave between the ships, testing the turning on her new M9 model. Suddenly her battle AI tugs at her consciousness, lighting up her cockpit with several alarms.

"Got you Lieutenant," James's voice says, crackling monotone over Nessa's comms.

"Being pretty showy don't you think?" Liko says, streaking in from another direction.

"Alright, you guys got me," Nessa says, barrel-rolling away from the freighters. "Now let's see if you can keep up,"

She pushes the controls forward, flaring up the ring-engine and bracing herself against her seat. The Mobile Armor blasts off, piercing space like an arrow as it hurtles towards distant, twinkling stars.

"Ah c'mon," Liko mutters over the comms. Nessa watches through her sensors as her two squadmates take off after her, cutting across the line of freighter ships.

They accelerate quickly, closing the distance between themselves and Nessa.

"You guys sure are oriented," Nessa comments, shifting slightly to aim for an asteroid. "Sure moving in space isn't getting to you?"

"Ha!" Liko says, the engines on his Mobile Armor brightening. "These new models do something to your brain. I should be overwhelmed by space right? Like back in Kami-Ci? But I just feel free!"

Liko threatens to catch up to Nessa, and she opens up the engines on her Mobile Armor. The ring-boosters flash as her craft arcs towards the asteroid.

"Nessa," Liko says, his voice cackling over her comms. "You're going to fast! The engines start to overload at Perka-7!"

She doesn't respond. Her whole body is pressed into the seat as she prods the controls gently forward. The M9 reacts, reaching faster and faster speeds.

Nessa reaches the asteroid and wills herself to activate her gravity harness. Again the M9 reacts, and suddenly the Mobile Armor is locked into the Asteroid gravity well. The Mobile Armor slings around the asteroid, faster and faster. Nessa starts to black out. The force is too strong, even with the battle-stims pumping through her mind.

Her AI takes over, releasing the gravity harness. The M9 shoots from the asteroid's orbit, boosters flaring up to slow it down. The strain on the Mobile Armor unit is intense, shaking the whole frame and causing Nessa to lose consciousness. When her vision returns, several blinking sensors greet her.

"Computer," Nessa groans, struggling to straighten up in her chair. "Did you take control back there?"

"I did Lieutenant Neganta, your vitals were falling below critical operation levels,"

"Don't ever take control from me," Nessa says, gripping her head with one hand. "I'm in control, not you,"

"I'm sorry Lieutenant, but I cannot allow you to harm yourself or your Mobile Armor unit,"

"I wasn't going to," Nessa says, shaking her head. She reaches out, gripping the controls. After looking around her cockpit, she locates her squadmates on her sensors.

"Liko, James," She says, hailing them with the laser comms.

"Shit, there you are!" Liko says, arcing around and blasting towards her. "We lost you completely! Did you not hear what I said about operating the M9 above seven perkas? Captain would kill you if your MA broke apart!"

"Let's head back," Nessa says, testing her engines. She accelerates one direction, then the other. Satisfied, she streaks across space to meet her squadmates. They wait for her, then together the three of them angle towards a nearby planet and accelerate towards it.

"Sooo, pretty nice, right?" Liko says, jerking his MA from side to side to demonstrate its prowess.

"It's fast," Nessa says. Her M9 leads the way, the planet growing larger before them. "James, what do you think,"

James is silent over the comms. Finally his monotone voice comes through.

"It's just a machine,"

"Hm," Nessa says. She adjusts her grip on the throttles, her eyes finding the long-range sensor. It shows a close-up shot of the Opa-San Torrister Orbital Station. There are several Hyperion frigates, as well as a cruiser, docked there. The Hyperion ships share the station with dozens of others, ranging from freighters to luxury craft. The three Mobile Armors aim for the cruiser, slowing their engines as they enter the gravity well.

"Hyperion MA's confirm, this is station-master, over," A voice says, crackling over the speakers.

"This is Hyperion MA squad B2, over," Nessa says, flipping a few switches on her comms board. "We read you,"

"You're clear for docking, welcome back,"

The Mobile Armors slow even more as they near a rectangular hanger in the underside of the Hyperion Lugga-Class Cruiser. They enter, cutting their engines completely and drifting into the waiting arms of several docking clamps. As soon as they grip down on the MA's, Nessa disconnects her neckport from the MA.

She feels a sudden rush, her head spinning. Nessa waits it out, overly familiar with the feeling of disconnecting by now. When she's ready, she rises, the cockpit sliding open.

A docking-tunnel waits for her outside the MA. She propels herself towards it, watching as James and Liko do the same towards their tunnels. Nessa reaches her, gripping a handle while she waits for the door to open.

Once inside, the three squadmates meet in the hall. Nessa works her helmet off, tucking it under her arm.

"Alright," She says. "I'm going to check in with captain, then let's hit the station,"

"You got it," Loki says, taking off his helmet. "We'll meet you in the aft hanger,"

They part ways, Nessa headed towards a transport-tube. She enters it, sharing it with an intelligence officer. Nessa stares straight ahead, ignoring the strange silver mask the officer wears.

She gets off on one of the inner levels, walking down a hall and stopping before a door. She waves her netcard-ID across the scanner, and after a few beats it opens.

"Ah, lieutenant, good," A voice says.

Nessa enters into a small room with three hologram displays and several consoles and stations. There are two comms officers manning the consoles. A metal desk rests against one of the walls. Captain Eratu stands behind it. Next to him are a man and woman, also wearing captain's insignia.

"Sir," She says, throwing a salute.

"Hm," He says, putting her at ease with a wave. "We were just discussing some of the new acquisitions. I understand you've been testing the M9 Star Knight,"

"I have sir," Nessa says, stopping before the desks.

"Lieutenant Neganta," The captain says, gesturing to the other two. "This is Captain Jebs and Captain Wassana, fleet logistics,"

"Sirs," Nessa says, nodding to them.

"We want you to give it to us straight," Captain Wassana says, opening up a hologram display with a wave of her hand. It shows a model of the M9 Mobile Armor.

"We understand you saw combat on Jasule, as well as in the Kami-Ci system against the Xuranda," Captain Jebs says. "So you'll have an idea of what we need,"

"What we need is speed," Nessa says, bluntly. She pauses, trying to correct her tone. "In Kami-Ci, the Mobile Armors who died were the ones who got caught up with Xurama starfighters. On Jasule, it was the same, but with other MA's. We have to be able to outmaneuver the enemy. The M9 is fast, faster than anything I've seen the Xurama use. If we get good pilots in them, we'll have a distinct advantage,"

"We're purchasing new starfighters as well," Captain Wassana says, her voice seemingly unconvinced. "They can outperform a Mobile Armor in every way,"

"In space granted," Nessa says. "But MA's are filling both ground support and fleet support roles. That's one more than the the starfighter can do,"

"We have the funds for both," Captain Jebs says, turning to Wassana. "If the lieutenant here thinks they're worth it, why not purchase them?"

"I'm not entirely certain we need both," Captain Wassana says, looking to Nessa's CO, Captain Eratu. "Captain, would you not say if we could simply concentrate on starfighters, our forces would be more effective?"

"Of course," Captain Eratu says, giving a small shrug. "But I saw what the MA's did on Jasule, both ours and the enemies. Starfighters, even atmospheric ones, move too fast to effectively support ground forces. At the present time, I feel we need both to compete with what the enemy will be fielding,"

Captain Wassana stares at the holographic readout of the M9 design. She sighs.

"Very well, have we tested the other new model yet?"

"The Diving-Bell class MA?" Captain Eratu says. "Not yet, I was unaware we had access to them,"

"There's three currently aboard," Captain Wassana says. "Make sure you run some tests, we need hard data for our decisions,"

"Of course," Captain Eratu says, nodding. He turns to Nessa. "You're dismissed Lieutenant, relax some on the station or get some rest,"

"Thank you sir," Nessa says, turning and leaving the chamber.

After taking the lift-tube and traveling down a few halls, Nessa reaches a locker room and changes out of her flight-uniform. She tucks everything away, then puts on her officer's casual jacket and smooths out the sleeves. Lastly she puts on her cap and closes her locker.

Nessa meets her squadmates in the aft hanger. They're wearing the same jacket and cap she is, though Liko's is slightly crooked. Nessa gestures at him.

"Didn't bother with a mirror?"

"What," Liko says, his hands moving up to his hat. "Is it crooked?"

"Idiot," Nessa says, grinning as she shakes her head. "C'mon, this is my first orbital station, I want to check it out,"

Liko falls into step beside her, and James quietly brings up the rear.

"I've never been on one either," Liko says. "At least not with some free time. There was that one station outside of Heroauck,"

"I barely remember it," Nessa says. "We've got credits right? Let's buy something,"

"Oh yeah," Liko says, furrowing his brow. "I forgot we've got a stipend, is it like the money we used back on Balos?"

"It's all netsphere coins," Nessa says. "It looked like Romus banks,"

They cross the docking bridge connecting the Hyperion Cruiser to the orbital station. The entryway leading into the station is plastered with decorative posters and flyers. Lights flash and advertisements flicker in the air. The babble of voices starts up as the trio nears, then Nessa and her squadmates pass into the station.

"Whoa," Liko says, pausing in the entry. "It's like...it's like a city!"

Nessa can't help but agree. She scans the reception area, a gigantic hanger with buildings and archways filling every space. There are tons of Drutchi, Khassan and Baalsid, as well as some aliens who look alarmingly human, save the pigmentation of their skin, as well as their size. They tower above the other occupants of the station.

"Well," Nessa says, looking around. "Let's go find someplace to spend these credits,"

The trio wades through the crowds, rubbing elbows with the myriad of aliens who make up the stations' occupants. They're dressed in everything from functional gear to extravagant robes.

There are Hyperion officers and soldiers as well. They stand in small groups throughout the station, observing and chatting with one another. They nod at Nessa and her squadmates as they pass.

"We should try and go there," Liko says, pointing upwards. Nessa and James both crane their necks.

Above them, through the glass ceiling of the reception hanger, Nessa can make out one of the station's habitation rings. Green fields and lakes peek back.

"That does look nice," Nessa murmurs. She looks around. "Let's see if we can't find the space elevator that leads to it,"

The trio starts walking again, though the buildings in the reception hanger make it hard to navigate. Liko consults his netcard, but can't seem to get his gps function to work.

Finally Nessa approaches a group of young-looking Drutchi in expensive robes and hair jewelry.

"Excuse me," Nessa says, gesturing in greeting. "I'm sorry to bother you, do any of you know how to get to that ring?"

She points up at the distant ring with the green fields and lakes. The Drutchi turn to each other, speaking quickly in hushed tones and giggling.

"Look Bavee," One of them says, sighing through the gills on the side of her neck. "Hyperion soldiers!"

"How crude," Another one says, bobbing her head so her jewelry sways. "I hear they attack anyone they come across and slaughter residents and civilians alike,"

She turns to Nessa.

"You can't attack us, we're URS citizens and netsphere elites, and if you hurt us our drone ships will kill you,"

"Yipsee stop," The closet Drutchi says, turning to Nessa and her squadmates. "I think they're interesting. We should go with them to the nature-zone,"

"What, ew, no," Another of the Drutchi says. "That's boring, we're supposed to be viding for that auction remember?"

"We're always viding," The lead one shoots back. "I've heard all sorts of things about the Hyperion fleets, I want to ask them questions. Come on, it will be fun,"

"wellll," The other Drutchi elites says, sharing looks.

"It's settled," The lead one says, turning to them. She extends a hand with long, slender blue fingers. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Bavee,"

"You've probably heard of her since she's a fucking netsphere sensation and a top-tier elite," Another of the Drutchi says as she inspect her hair jewelry. "We're all elites, so you've probably seen us all in the vids,"

"Sure," Nessa says, slowly. She takes Beeve's hand. "Lieutenant Neganta, 1st Hyperion Regulatory fleet,"

"Oh," Bavee says, smiling. "I'm so excited, I think we're going to become quite good friends"

-End of Chapter 24-

 

[Lop]

"Right there, you see it?"

Sergeant Dot of the 4th Green Commando squad raises her binoculars. She's surrounded by hills and valleys, and covering every surface; buildings. Big ones, small ones, it's the densest city she's ever seen.

Dot scans the buildings, finding the the target her Corporal, Olif, is sighting.

"I see them," She says, zooming in on her binoculars. A series of housing megastructures lines the slope of a distant hill. She can make out drones hovering around them like flies. "Five, give me target indicators and tell the hives to liquify the hill,"

"Yes sergeant," AI 432-5 says through her mindlink. "Passing the data now,"

Sergeant Dot and her Hyperion commandos are perched on the sixtieth floor of another housing megastructure on another hill. They're surrounded by similar buildings, but theirs' is slightly higher.

The walls of their floor are reinforced with a clear blue bioliqua web. It's a new type of the biological shield, and almost invisible to any outside observers.

"The Preexma Hive Launcher has locked," AI 432-5 announces.

Dot peers at the distant hill holding the megastructures through the binoculars. More drones rise to congregate around the buildings.

"Fire," She says.

From an entirely different direction, a torrent of purple bolts launches into the sky from behind a building. They slam back down into the hillside, annihilating the distant hill Dot watches through her binoculars. Smoke and dust rises up from the new crater.

Olif lets out a slow whistle, lowering his binoculars.

"You think that was all of them?"

Dot raises two fingers, pressing the side of her helmet.

"2nd command this is 4th Green, square E-70 has been cleared, over,"

"Roger that 4th Green, we're sending in infantry, support as needed, over,"

"Roger that, over," Dot says.

She and Olif move away from the window. The rest of 4th Green stands around the room, their weapons pointed out of various openings in the webs of clear bioliqua.

"Pack it up," Olif says, clapping. "We're moving in with the infantry,"

The commandos get to work, gathering their equipment and tearing down the bioliqua webs. They do the latter task using a specific tool kept in thier exo-braces.

In a matter of minutes they're ready to leave. Two commandos take point and lead them down the side of the building using their jet-boosters. A convoy of tread-trucks is passing in the street below.

Dot touches down on the side of the road, as does the rest of the squad. The tread-trucks continue to pass, their batteries whining as the trucks climb over rubble. One of them pulls off to the side, stopping in front of Dot and her squad.

"Hey there soldiers," A man says, standing up in the back of the truck. He's wearing a Major's insignia, as well as the cap and cape. "Major Parlo, I'm in charge of a few divisions here. You headed to E-70?"

"Sergeant Dot, 4th Green Commando," Dot says, nodding. "Yessir, we are,"

"Well climb on in, we'll give you a ride to C-point,"

The commandos share looks, but Dot walks forward and begins climbing up into the back of the truck.

"C'mon guys," She says, scaling the ladder. "We could use the rest,"

The rest of the commandos climb up after her. Dot makes it to the top, accepting the Major's hand and pulling herself into the back. She straightens up and moves to the side to let her squad up as well.

"Thank you Major," She says, turning to him and nodding.

"My pleasure, we couldn't eradicate these bastards without you guys,"

"Hm," Dot says, looking for some empty seats. She freezes as her eyes trail across the other occupants. It's regular infantry, and near the front, ADAM clones. Twenty men who resemble Bart briefly glance at her and her squad.

"Anywhere's fine," The Major says, gesturing at some empty benches. The regular infantry in the middle scoot over to make room.

The commandos take their seats, resting thier gear across their laps. Three large tank-hunter drones fly overhead, buzzing loudly. The tread-truck hums as it starts back up, rejoining the transport convoy.

"Well," The Major says, sitting down on the empty bench next to Dot. "These Xurama bastards don't know when to quite, huh?"

"Hm," Dot says, watching the buildings pass.

"Course, we could well enough to leave them alone," The Major says, working a cigar out of his cape pocket. "We smashed their ships, and this is the only planet of theirs we've sent our ground forces too,"

Dot still doesn't respond. There's Mon aliens gathering in the alleys and ruined buildings that line the street. She watches the strange creatures, their black eyes staring back at her.

"Makes you wonder," The Major says, putting the cigar in his mouth and lighting it. He puffs it a few times, then checks the cherry. "What exactly does command want here?"

The Major looks at Dot and follows her gaze.

"Oh yes, plenty of Chityee Mon around these parts. It's a local culture, but vastly different than most other Mon cultures you'll run into. We've had to get shooty when they get too close,"

"I can't tell the difference between them and the Xurama," Dot says, still watching the civilians they pass.

"It's quite simple really," The Major says. "I was a records-coordinator back on Balos, Tritan migration permits was a subspecialty of mine. Chityee Mon are only found on this planet, primarily on this continent. The Mon crewing the Xurama fleet are made up of Surassan, Perin and Umamech, which all denote cultures hailing from those systems,"

"Does it matter," Dot says, finally looking away from the buildings. The tread-trucks continue to rumble along, passing ruined structures and desolate looking civilians.

"Well, sure," The Major says, looking slightly miffed. "Knowledge is a noble endeavor,"

A large commotion starts up ahead. Dot, the Major, and most of the soldiers in the back of the tread-truck crane their necks to peer ahead.

A parade of Chityee aliens is surging into the street, crying out and throwing their arms into the air. Their wails and shrieks echo around the ruined buildings.

"The hell is this," The Major says, standing and puffing on his cigar. Dot does as well, gripping her rifle.

The parade of aliens continues. The tread-trucks slow down to part the way through them, but several of the Mon bang on the sides as they pass. Dot takes in the faces of the creatures, then notices a tightly packed group in the center of the parade.

They hold up large jars with strange markings on them. The Mon who gather around those carrying the jars cry out and chant, making gestures in the air.

"It's a funeral," Dot says, watching as the parade of aliens reaches their truck. The stream around it. Dot looks down at them, watching as they stare back up at her and cry out.

"A funeral," The Major says, ashing his cigar over their heads. "How annoying,"

The Mon start banging on the truck as they pass, calling out to the soldiers riding above.

"Back!" The Major yells, pointing at them. They point back at him, crying louder. "BACK!" The Major yells again. "Or I will shoot!"

They hold up their hands to him, as if asking for something or pleading. The trucks continue to make their way through the crowd, though the going is still slow.

"That's it!" The Major yells, turning to the front of the truck. "Corporal, get these beasts away from our convoy!"

Dot watches as one of the Bart clones stands up, signalling two other clones to stand with him. They take aim with their rifles and open fire into the crowd.

"NO!" Dot screams, throwing her hands out towards the clones. Her mind reels as the scene of Bart killing Lance flashes in her mind.

"Sergeant!" The Major says, looking confused. One of the clones briefly glances at her, then returns to firing. The Major holds up his hands, and the ADAMs stop firing. The Mon are screaming and rushing away, fleeing en mass from the caravan.

"Sergeant Dot," The Major says, turning to her. "Is something the matter?"

"N-no," Dot says, doing her best not to shake as she sits down. "N-no problem sir,"

She puts her head in her hands, closing her eyes tightly.

"Sergeant," A voice says softly.

She looks up sharply. Some of the commandos stare at her, but no-one gives any indication of speaking. She slowly looks back down again.

"Sergeant,"

Dot recognizes it this time. It's AI 432-5.

"What do you want Five," Dot murmurs, closing her eyes and resting her head back in her hands.

"You were suffering from psychological deep-impression triggers,"

Dot doesn't respond. She feels herself sway as the tread-truck begins to climb a hill.

"Sergeant, you have repeatedly denied my attempts to assist you,"

"And you won't listen when I tell you to fuck off," Dot says. "I don't need an artificial person and their artificial words,"

"I am not a person Sergeant Dot," AI 432-5 says. "But I am no longer artificial either, and I care about you,"

The tread-truck comes to a stop, and Dot opens her eyes. The Major and infantry are gathering their things and standing.

"Keep it to yourself," Dot murmurs to her battle AI, then stands. She motions for the commandos to do the same, then turns to the Major. "How close are we to the TZ,"

"Right up the road," The Major says, taking a datapad from his cape and consulting it.

Another trio of tank-hunter drones soars overhead. Dot jumps down from the truck, and the rest of her squad follows.

"What's the orders sarg," Olif says, adjusting his grip on beam rifle.

"We'll follow the infantry," Dot says. "This should just be a mop-up operation,"

Both regular and ADAM clone infantry are making their way up the sloping street. There's little noise save for the engines that cross the skies. Dot looks down at the cracked pavement as she and the other members of 4th Green trudge up the hill.

They come to the target zone soon enough. It's easy to spot, as the area was completely demolished by the Hiver launcher. The infantry are making their way through the rubble.

"Sergeant!" A voice calls.

Dot turns and spots Major Parlo. He's jogging towards her with two ADAM clones in tow. He comes to a stop before her. Dot tries her best to ignore the men who look like Bart.

"Yes...sir," She says.

"Just got word from command, they're rotating out all commando units and leaving the rest of this for the infantry,"

Dot and her squadmates share a look. Quick deployments was something they were all used to. There must be another front opening somewhere else...

A large dust cloud is thrown up, followed by a deep boom. Several soldiers cry out in the distance. Dot and the Major look in the direction of the dust cloud. Without saying anything, they both start heading that way.

4th Green and the Major come up to the edge of a crater. There are already Hyperion soldiers in it, exploring the bottom. Through the dust Dot can make out a massive pair of metal blast doors, big enough to fly a starfighter through.

"Well well well," The Major says, dusting his gloved hands. "What did I tell you Sergeant? The Xurama were hiding something here. Shame you're rotating offplanet, bet you would have liked to have seen what was inside, hm?"

"I'm fine," Dot says, turning away from the crater. "Enjoy Major,"

Four days later, a transport ships docks with the Rex Dominus, unloading 4th Green and several other commando units. Dot and her squadmates shuffle out of the ship and back into the hallways of the capital-ship. She breaks away from the other commandos, heading towards the officer's hall. Olif turns off as well.

"You debriefing with the lieutenant Sarg?" Olif says, siding up to her.

"I am Corporal, but I'll do it alone this time,"

"What, really?"

Olif slows, then shakes his head and catches back up.

"Sarg c'mon, I'm your corporal, we always go to these things together,"

Dot grows angry, turning on Olif.

"Corporal, between you and Five, I cannot do a single thing without you second-guessing my state of mind. I am your sergeant, aren't I"

"Well yes," Olif says. "But you're also my-"

"Then follow my orders,"

Dot leaves Olif standing in the hallway. She walks down to a doorway, knocking on the metal covers. After a few beats, it opens.

She enters into a small officer's office. Two desks occupy it, but only one is manned. A lieutenant sits behind it, his hat and jacket resting on the back of the chair.

"Ah, Sergeant Dot," The Lieutenant says, looking up from his datapad. "Welcome back, I trust the Xurama are sufficiently quelled?"

"Lieutenant Melkors," Dot says, coming to a stop before his desk and throwing a salute.

"Yes yes Sergeant, at ease,"

"Thank you sir," Dot says, lowering her arm but still looking straight ahead. "I'm here to ask permission to quit 4th Green sir!"

The lieutenant doesn't say anything, staring at Dot with an unreadable expression. Finally he leans back in his seat, motioning for Dot to sit as well.

"Sergeant," He begins, threading his hands over his stomach. "I understand we ask a lot of our commando units in our struggle against our enemies,"

"It's not about that sir," Dot says, finally looking the lieutenant in the eyes.

"Well alright," The lieutenant says, opening up his hands and then threading them again. "Then perhaps you've lost faith in our leadership, or our ability to keep our people safe,"

"Sir-"

"Regardless of your reasonings Sergeant Dot, you can't leave,"

Dot is silent, her words fading in her throat. She stares at the lieutenant. He opens up his hands again, as if to shrug.

"I'm sorry, we're all technically residential-enlisted class, under the direct authority of the Alliance Security Council. Leaving is equivalent to desertion in their eyes,"

"I'm...not doing it anymore, sir," Dot says. "I'm not being a part of this death fleet. It took Ham from me. It took Lance, then Bart. Everything we do, everywhere we go, the people I love disappear. I'm not losing anyone else,"

"Sergeant," The lieutenant says, slowly. "If you leave, who will protect the innocent among our ships? It isn't just about you, it's about our species,"

"They turned the man I love into a mindless killing machine," Dot says, staring away to the side. "I see his face a thousand times a day. But it's not him. It does things he would never do,"

"Sergeant, you aren't thinking straight. Tell me, tell me right now where you'll go if you could leave,"

Dot looks at the lieutenant.

"Well?" He says, leaning forward and motioning with one hand. "Somewhere in the occupation zone? Maybe you'll fall victim to fighting between regulatory fleets if you're lucky. Otherwise it's economic ruin and uncertainty."

Dot still doesn't say anything.

"Or perhaps you'll go outside the occupation zone? Maybe try your luck in the URS? I think you'll find it was easier to be a resident-class under Tritan. Or perhaps an independent system? You'll be nothing be an indentured servant for the rest of your life. Is that what you want for you and whoever you care about? With the fleet, we at least have a chance at one day establishing ourselves,"

"Maybe..." Dot says, holding his gaze. "But I won't live to see it, and neither will my siblings. We'll be dead or changed into something...awful. You probably won't live to see it either Lieutenant. I've answered to several of you this past year,"

"That's enough sergeant," The lieutenant says, straightening up in his seat. "I can see you're struggling from post-battle fatigue. Go de-gear, then run some decom-sims, then get some rest. That's an order,"

Dot slowly gets to her feet.

"Yes sir," She says, throwing a salute. Dot turns and walks out of the office.

"Your squad is one of the best sergeant," The lieutenant says as she opens the door. "We can't afford to lose you, none of us can,"

She shuts it behind her, then stands in the hall. A pair of comms officers pass her, ignoring her as they chat with one another. Dot turns and walks in the opposite direction.

That night, Dot walks through the halls once more, though she wears simple fatigues and only carries a duffle bag. She pauses at an intersection, checking down all four halls.

"Sergeant Dot," AI 432-5 says in her mindlink. "May I ask why you're up?"

"Can't sleep," Dot says, gripping her duffle bag and rushing down one of the halls. She pauses at another intersection, checking down each one.

"You have still not completed your decom-sims Sergeant. Your increase in physiological deep-impression triggers can be directly linked to this,"

"Mindlink off," Dot says, then rushes across another hallway.

Two smaller figures wait ahead at the next intersection. One of them raises their hand and waves as Dot approaches.

"Dot!" Eena says, smiling. Reese is with her as well and waves.

"Good good good," Dot says, coming up to them and hugging them both.

"What's the matter?" Eena says, looking up at her. "Why'd you have us meet you here?"

"No time to explain," Dot says, gathering them both. "C'mon,"

She rushes them down the hall, pausing at every intersection. They reach a transport tube, and all file in.

"Seriously Dot," Reese says, studying her with narrowed eyes. "Why are we running around?"

"We're going on a trip," Dot says, clutching the duffle back with one hand and holding Eena too her with the other. "But we have to hurry if we want to make it,"

"A trip?" Eena says, looking up at her. "What kind of trip?"

The doors open and Dot prods the two younger teens out of the tube. They're in one large hall leading down to a massive pair of bay doors. The trio half-jogs towards it.

There's a smaller door leading into the hanger. Two mechanoids stand guard outside it.

"Halt and identify yourself," One of them says, turning to her. Dot takes a beam-spitter from her jacket and points it at the mechanoid. She pulls the trigger.

The mechanoid reels back as the beam rounds impact against it. Dot aims at the second one and fires before it raises its guns.

"WHOA!" Reese says, backing up. "Dot!"

"It's fine," Dot says, running up to hanger door and waving her netcard-ID in front of the scanner. It beeps twice, then slides open. "C'mon," Dot says, turning to them. "We have to hurry,"

Both Eena and Reese look uncertain. Dot grabs them by the arms and pulls them past the smoking mechanoid bodies.

Inside the hanger, the trio is met by row upon row of starfighters. Dot scans them all, then finds one with an open cockpit. She rushes Eena and Reese towards it.

"Get inside the cockpit," Dot says, urging Eena up the ladder. "Then take this duffle I'll hand you,"

"SERGEANT!"

Dot looks over and sees Olif sprinting across the hanger. In the distance, several mechanoids are also approaching at a brisk pace.

"Fuck!" Dot says, then looks up at Eena on the ladder. "Go! Go!"

"SERGEANT WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Olif yells, sprinting harder. He nears the starfighter, and Dot turns on him, the beam-spitter raised. Olif slows to a halt, cocking his head. "Sergeant I don't understand? What are you doing?"

"What are you doing Corporal! Didn't I tell you to leave me well enough alone!"

"Five said you turned your mindlink off..." Olif says, looking more confused. His gaze goes up to Eena in the starfighter. "Sarg...are you trying to desert?"

The Mechanoid's are nearing the starfighter. Their heavy footsteps echo on the metal floor.

"I'm sorry Olif," Dot says, tossing the duffle up to Eena. "You were always nice to me. I just knew if I was nice back, you'd die like everyone else,"

"Sergeant..you can't leave..." Olif says.

Dot glances up at Eena to make sure she has the duffle. Olif lunges forward, grabbing Reese.

"HEY!" Reese yells, struggling.

"OLIF NO!" Dot yells, pointing the beam-spitter.

"You can't leave Sergeant!" Olif yells, tightly gripping Reese. "You can't leave us!"

The mechanoid's are almost upon them. Dot screams out in anguish, then turns and sprints up the ladder.

"DOT!" Reese yells, reaching for her. Olif continues to hold him back.

"I'll COME BACK!" Dot yells down at him, jumping into the seat.

"No no NO!" Eena screams, shaking Dot's seat. "We can't leAVE HIM!"

"Fuck fuck fuck," Dot says, flipping switches in the starfighter. "I don't remember enough of those pilot sims!"

"Allow me," A voice says in Dot's mind.

"f-five?" Dot says. The console of the starfighter lights up, and the engine roars to life.

"I told you Sergeant Dot, I care about you," The AI says. "I will get you out of here if that is what you want,"

Dot presses her hands to the glass of the cockpit, peering down. Olif still holds Reese as the mechanoid soldiers swarm around the starfighter.

"I'll be back," Dot mouths to Reese. "I'll save you,"

The starfighter blasts off, streaking out of the hanger and through the closing blast doors. Alarms start to blare as the doors shut completely. Dot looks behind her as the Rex Dominus grows smaller and smaller. Eena sobs in the back seat.

"It'll be okay," Dot murmurs, watching as AI 432-5 dips them into the cover of an asteroid belt. "We'll be alright Eena."

The fleet disappears behind a thick clutch of asteroids.

"I promise,"

-End of Chapter 25-

 

[Lop]

Hans Ramean sits upright in his bed, the sheets drawn in around him. He sits there naked, holding Major Annwhick's silver mask in his hands.

"Can I try it on?" He calls.

Major Anna Annwhick leans out of the bathroom, pausing the brushing of her hair.

"You may absolutely not," She says, shooting him a skeptical look. "It would hurt you,"

"How does it work?" Hans says, turning the mask over in his hands. The back features strange-looking ports and circuitry.

"I can't tell you the specifics," Anna says, going back into the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror. She continues to brush her hair. "But it's similar to the wave-blockers built into ships,"

"Seems like it would be uncomfortable, wearing these all the time," Hans says, setting the mask on the bed.

"You get used to it,"

Anna finishes in the bathroom and returns to the bedroom of the Admiral's quarters. She sits on the edge of the bed and begins tying up her hair in a bun. Hans takes the sheets away from him and moves towards her. He envelopes her in a hug and plants several kisses on her neck. Anna rolls her eyes.

"Sir," She says. "I'm trying to get ready for the important work my division carries out. Don't you have a pressing role of some sort within this fleet you need to get ready for?"

"No titles or honorifics in the bedroom," Hans says, pausing his kissing.

"As much as I'm sure that works for you," Anna says, letting go of her bun and holding Han's arms to her. "I'm afraid that won't work for me,"

"You can't see us being together?" Hans says, letting go of Anna and leaning back. "Is it because I'm an Admiral?"

"It's because the man I loved died on Jasule," Anna says, looking away. "And I don't know what I'm doing anymore,"

Hans doesn't say anything. He looks down, then finally nods.

"I'm sorry, you told me but...I didn't realize.."

"It's fine," Anna says, reaching across the bed and picking up her silver mask. "You didn't know the details,"

She places it to her face, and the mask attaches itself. Major Annwhick then stands and crosses over to a chair. She picks up a jacket and throws it around her shoulders.

"I suppose now is as good a time as any to ask your authorization for something,"

Hans raises an eyebrow.

"Sure, why not," He says, standing and gathering some pants off the floor. He slowly works his legs through them.

"Fleet Intelligence needs certain prohibited material for the continued research into D-tech,"

"How prohibited," Hans says, buckling his pants.

"Extremely," Major Annwick says, working her datapad out of her jacket. "Its sale, manufacture and transfer are extremely regulated and prohibited,"

She walks over to Hans, holding out the datapad.

"We answer to high command. We need the signature and thumbprint of an Admiral to conduct code-dark operations,"

"I am aware Major," Hans says, staring at the datapad. He meets her gaze. "I'm sorry, but I can't sign off on that, nor will I allow any of the others to. The acquisition and movement of prohibited materials is the quickest way to bring a military coalition down on our heads,"

"Hans," Major Annwhick begins.

"That's Admiral Raemen Major, since we appear to be talking fleet business,"

"Admiral, we are at an extreme disadvantage,"

Hans raises an eyebrow again. He walks over to his wardrobe and opens it, finding a jacket. He takes it off the hook and starts putting his arm through the sleeve.

"I'm listening,"

"The URS has supplied us with no shortage of anchor shields to protect against warp-fold payloads, but we don't have any materials to construct our own D-towers, nor will they give us any,"

"The things used to warp-fold payloads, yes?" Hans says, buttoning up his jacket.

"Correct. The technology is always advancing. Soon anchor shields won't be enough. We need our own D-towers,"

"Did the Xurama have D-towers?"

"The Xurama did not have any of their own d-towers,"

"Of course they didn't" Hans says. "The Ptolem would never be so foolish. Though, I am curious. If we have the technology to fold-warp ships, how can we not do the same to payloads?"

"The engines are installed in the ships," The Major says. "It would be an incredibly dangerous process to remove and convert them. We need to construct our own D-towers. Anchor shields and the fold-engines are not enough."

"I'm sorry Major, for now, anchor shields and the engines will have to be enough. Especially if the URS hasn't authorized us to pursue d-towers. The absolute worst thing we could possibly do right now is bite the hand that feeds us,"

Major Annwhick stares at Hans, her expression hidden under her mask. She slowly puts the datapad back in her jacket.

"Very well sir, I understand,"

"Hm, good," Hans says, glancing sideways. "I suppose I'll see you around then,"

"Yessir, I look forward to it,"

The Major walks out of the bedroom. Hans hears his doors open then the sound of Anna leaving. The doors close behind her. Hans lets out a heavy sigh, then finishes putting on his insignia.

Hans leaves his room, making his way to the command chamber of the Hyperion capital ship Rex Dominus.

"Admiral on deck!" Vice Admiral Kramp calls as Hans enters. He puts everyone at ease, then waits for the table to finish unfolding from the center of the chamber. He takes a seat as the hologram projectors flicker to life.

One by one, the Admirals and Vice Admirals of the Hyperion 1st Regulatory fleet appear at the table in hologram form. They flicker a bit before stabilizing.

"Admiral Raemen," Admiral Wort says, adjusting his grip on his cane. "Should we begin to expect tardiness as a regular trait of yours?"

"I assure you Admiral Wort," Hans says, getting comfortable and accepting a cup of tea from a nearby petty officer. "We are all doing what needs to be done, whether on or off-hologram,"

"Well if you are done with your off-hologram work, I'd like to begin this meeting,"

Hans beckons Wort to do so, then takes a sip of his tea. Wort clears his throat.

"We are beginning our operations against the so-called Unified Peacekeeping fleets. Our special divisions have begun widespread operations to deny to enemy planets and orbital stations to them, but they have immense support from the Ptolem,"

"Have we already replenished the ships we lost?" Hans says, setting the cup to the side. "Because even if we return to pre-Kami-Ci numbers, they outnumber us,"

"We've purchases thousands of new frigates, cruisers and battleships," Admiral Kirkland says, his hologram form picking up a datapad. "The sheer amount of capital we have access to allows us to spread out the order between a multitude of independent shipyards. We only have to wait a month, then we'll outnumber the unified fleets,"

"The fact that they haven't already come and wiped us out is surprising," Admiral Zamphry says, lighting his pipe. He takes a few puffs, then rests it on his stomach. "Expecting us to last the month without the entirety of their fleet coming down on us is folley,"

"And even if we do get the ships," Hans says, setting his tea to the side. "Do we have the numbers to crew them?"

"We do," Admiral Wort says, sounding cross. "Thanks to the men and women freed up by our new infantry divisions,"

"I'm not sure," Hans says, looking at his Vice Admiral. Kramp hands him a datapad. Hans consults it. "We'll certainly be stretched thin Admiral Wort. We can't keep ignoring the fact that someday soon we won't be able to replenish our losses,"

"Do you have a better idea Admiral Raemen?" Wort says, narrowing his good eye. "I'm sensing a tone,"

"Actually," Admiral Fulsuv says, breaking the tension. Both Hans and Wort look at Fulsuv. The Admiral sees their gazes and continues. "If the High Command would allow it, I have someone here who I actually had a discussion recently about our crew problems,"

"Hm?" Wort says, clearly suspicious. "Spit it out Admiral Fulsuv, who is it?"

A hologram flickers onto an empty seat, and a man's projection appears. He's tall and thin, with an expressionless face and eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

"This is Deidric Braum, an old trade minister from Balos. He presented some rather unique solutions to our lack of crew,"

"Admirals," The man says, his voice quiet and reserved. "Vice Admirals, thank you for having me,"

"Well?" Wort says, his prosthetic eye narrowing. "We're listening,"

"My solution is twofold," Deidric says, pressing his hands together. "The first is requiring genetic material from all healthy crew-members, in order to grow the next generation in optimized conditions via artificial wombs,"

"Hold on," Hans says, raising a hand. He holds Deidric's gaze in his. "You're suggesting we force everyone aboard to have children? That's absolutely barbaric,"

"And unfortunately a plan that doesn't see fruiation for two decades," Admiral Wort says. "Give us something immediate Mr. Bruam, or I think we've heard enough,"

"Well, you aren't the only humans in the sector, if that is indeed your only requirement,"

The Admirals share a look.

"There's others?" Admiral Zamphry says, furrowing his brow. "I'm fairly certain Tritan had us all consolidated,"

"Not quite," Deidric says, his voice calm and even. "On the edge of the occupation zone, outside former Tritan space, are two independent systems. On one of the planet is a sizeable human population,"

"How have I never heard of this?" Zamphry says, puffing his pipe.

"I am also unaware of this," Admiral Wort says, studying Braum.

"It's not a well-known thing," The man says, maintaining his calm. "They're technically citizens of small interplanetary governments within the independent systems. These are relatively unimportant systems in the grand scheme of things, but still highly populated,"

"So, what," Hans says, gesturing vainly. "We go ask them to join?"

"Who's asking," Admiral Kirkland says, rubbing his chin. "This is about survival," He turns to Deidric Braum. "I like the way you think sir, we need more humans, and lo and behold, we've found some,"

"I'm sorry," Hans says, cocking his head. "Are you actually suggesting we kidnap people? Do you have any idea how that will look to the major sector governments?"

"What are they going to do?" Kirkland says, raising his eyebrows. "They're completely ineffective in this so-called alliance, all they can do is arm other regulatory fleets against us,"

"Idiot!" Hans says, losing his temper. "Our entire existence is owed to the hatred between Ptolem and the URS, nothing more! We can't keep acting like rogue warlords!"

"That is quite enough Admiral Raemen," Wort says, glancing at Hans. "We understand your trepidation, but we are short on options in our life and death struggle,"

"I'm inclined to side with Admiral Raemen," Zamphry says, taking a puff of his pipe. "Although kidnapping the only other humans in the sector would bolster our numbers, is that really the route we want to go when we can barely keep our own people from rioting?"

Deidric Braum clears his throat.

"Are you still here?" Hans says, glaring at him. "You've presented your brutish ideas, now go,"

"Very well," Diedric says, bowing. His hologram cuts out.

"Are we actually entertaining that?" Hans says, gesturing at Braum's empty seat.

"Let's take a vote," Admiral Kirkland says, dryly. "All opposed to press ganging our brothers and sisters into service?"

Hans and Zamphry raise their hands.

"All in favor,"

Wort, Kirkland and Fulsuv raise their hands.

"Very well," Wort says, clearing his throat. "We'll dispatch the fleet to these independent systems,"

"And the Unified Peacekeeping fleets?" Admiral Zamphry says. "How are we to last the month against them while our ships are being built?"

"We'll have to keep moving," Admiral Kirkland says. "Never in one place for long,"

"That will be expensive," Admiral Fulsuv says. "Warp-fold fuel is hard to aquire,"

"We have the funds," Admiral Wort says. "Above all, we cannot enter into any prolonged engagements with the unified fleets. We need time to strike against them, which our special divisions will buy for us. Then, once we are ready, we will utterly annihilate the unified fleet and the last of our enemies,"

"Hear hear!" Fulsuv says, nodding in agreement. Kirkland raises a hologram glass.

Hans and Zamphry share a look.

-End of Chapter 26-

 

[TimEd]

Looks interesting. I'll read it all when I get the time.

 

[Lop]

Lieutenant Nessa Neganta walks with her squadmates, Liko and James, among the crowds of the Opa-San Torriester orbital station. Leading the Hyperion pilots is a group of Drutchi females dressed in elaborate and expensive robes. The lead one, Bavee, turns to Nessa, her face flaring red. Nessa's come to believe this is another way they smile.

"This is so exciting," Bavee says, clasping her hands, one of her antenna dipping. "I have so many questions to ask you guys! We'll get on the elevator first,"

"We're not seriously going to the nature-ring are we?" another Drutchi girls asks, swaying slowly as she walks. "It's so hot there,"

"Not always," Another pipes up. "Maybe it's just forests and lakes,"

"So you're, vid-stars or something?" Liko says, studying the drutchi aliens. "I don't really get on that netsphere that much anymore,"

"Ugh off-net drones are the worst," The other drutchi girl says. "It's like, if you're not in, you're out, and out is sessed,"

"I didn't understand most of that," Liko says. "Does that mean you are?"

"We're kind of like vidstars," Bavee says, leading the group along. "If vidstars were still a thing of course,"

"C'mon Lieutenant help me out," Liko says, nudging her. "Weren't you always on the netsphere back on Balos?"

"I've been off just as long as you have," Nessa says, continuing to follow the drutchi girls.

"Oh you poor things," Another Drutchi girl says. "I'd hate to be off-net! The netsphere is everything!"

"Maybe for you," Liko says, shrugging. "But we're fighting all the time,"

"Yes this is exactly what I wanted to talk about!" Bavee says, turning red again. She extends a hand, motioning at a distant station-port. "There's the elevator, come on, let's get tickets!"

The group approaches the station, the drutchi girls forcing their way past the lines queued up at the ticket booths. The other aliens protest, but the drutchi ignore them. Nessa and her squadmates follow. For some reason, the aliens' protests die down once they spot the Hyperion pilots. It's not a good feeling for Nessa, as their gazes turn to her.

"Hellooooo," Bavee says, sliding up to the counter and leaning against it. "Me and all my friends want a private ride to the nature-ring, thank youuuu!"

The attendant, a bored looking Baalsid, glances at the drutchi, then at Nessa and her squadmates.

"I'm sorry, all together?" The attendant says.

"We can pay for ours," Nessa says, reaching for her jacket pocket.

"Nonsense nonsense," Bavee says, dismissing the notion with a wave. "This is our treat,"

One of the drutchi girls turns to Nessa.

"We make more in a few cycles then you probably make in a lifetime," She says, turning slightly bluish. "This is no big deal for us,"

"Clearly not," Nessa says, raising an eyebrow.

The attendant scans tickets onto all their netcards, then waves them through. Nessa, Liko and James follow the drutchi through a gate and down a hallway. A doorway opens for them, and Nessa finds herself entering into a spacious elevator with comfortable seating ringing it. The entire elevator is glass, so that the occupants can see space as they travel from one part of the station to the other.

"Wonderful," Bavee says, taking her seat. The other Drutchi girls sit close, hugging and lying across each other. Nessa recognizes it as pose-behavior, which might mean they're recording.

"Are you guys viding right now?" Nessa says, glancing out towards space. The distant stars beckon to her beyond the glass.

"Just here and there," Bavee says, glancing at her netcard. "Good transitional shots are worth everything," She looks back up, turning red and smiling as she meets Nessa's gaze. "But now I want to ask you some questions I'm just dying to know,"

"Okay," Nessa says, cautiously.

"What's it like!" Bavee says, leaning forward suddenly and displacing her Drutchi friend on her lap.

"Hey!" The other drutchi protests, shifting over.

"You guys were just residents right?" Bavee continues, ignoring her friend. "And then you all became soldiers?"

"Yeah," Nessa says, sharing a look with Liko. "That's right,"

"I hear you raid planets and kill the beings there for practice," Another Drutchi says as she inspects her netcard.

"Is it true you want to kill everyone because of what Tritan did to you?" Another says.

"What? No..." Nessa says, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"Starlings, stop," Bavee says, turning to her friends. "You know it's not that simple," She turns back to the Hyperion pilots. "But, how did you guys become like this? Did you steal a bunch of ships and all decide to leave? I hear you all left your planets, even your youngs and olds,"

"No, I mean, yes to some of that," Nessa says, still confused. "We were drafted by the Alliance Security Council after they defeated Tritan,"

"The what?" One of the Drutchi girls says, turning pale.

"You know, the Security Council, the Alliance governing body tasked with the security of the sector,"

"What's the Alliance?" Another drutchi says, staring at her netcard.

"It's...an alliance," Nessa says. She briefly wonders if her new companions are playing a trick on her. "Between the URS, the Ptolem Empire, the Haladjinn Republic and all the others,"

"Oh, I didn't know our systems were in an alliance," Bavee says, looking genuinely surprised. "That's very interesting,"

Nessa shares looks with her squadmates.

"So wait," Liko says, studying the Drutchi girls. "You didn't know the URS was allied with the others in this sector?"

"Oh we don't pay attention to politics," a Drutchi girl says.

"Yeah," Another chimes in. "That's boring,"

"So all these different groups made you fly the ships?" Bavee says, scooting closer on the edge of her seat. "And you all agreed?"

The elevator continues to travel towards the habitation ring. The lakes and forests grow bigger through the glass walls of the lift.

"We had to," Nessa says.

"Yeah," Liko says. "It was either that, or stay resident-class on Balos,"

"I don't understand why like, everyone just doesn't become citizens," One of the Drutchi says. "It's so much easier,"

Liko laughs.

"What, in the URS? It's not that easy,"

"Well it should be," The drutchi says, rolling her eyes.

The elevator dips into a tunnel, then slows to a stop. The lights brighten and the door opens with a bell chime.

"Come on, let's start the tour," Bavee says, standing. "I've still got questions!"

"Great," Liko says, following Nessa out of the elevator with James in tow.

After a brief tunnel, the group steps out into the habitation ring. It loops up on either side of them, forests, lakes and rivers spreading out around the halo. The Hyperion pilots pause, craning their necks as they take it all in.

"wow," Liko says, gazing at the sparkling lakes above him. "Gravity's weird, huh,"

"Hm," Nessa says, her eyes studying the tangles of forest.

"Okay here's the path," Bavee says, motioning the group onward. "We'll walk towards the nearest lake,"

The humans and drutchi take off, finding a stone path and walking along it. Fields occupy both sides of the path, strange flowers and wheat bending in artificial winds.

"So," Bavee says, walking with them. "You guys got put on the ships, and then what, you had to start fighting? Who are you fighting?"

"Other Regulatory fleets," Nessa says, still gazing around her.

"Oh it's a contest then!"

"No.... We weren't supposed to fight. We were just supposed to patrol the occupation zone,"

"The what?" A drutchi says, holding up her netcard to take a picture of a flower.

"When the Alliance defeated Tritan, its territories became the occupation zone,"

"Oh,"

"So," Bavee says, waiting for her friends to catch up. She turns to Nessa, who's also waiting with her. "Why'd you guys start fighting?"

"Well, we didn't. It was the Lantern fleets and the Episcalon fleets," Nessa says. "I guess their crews hated each other before Tritan or something. But once they started fighting, everyone did,"

"Our government should do something," A drutchi says. "They could get everyone to stop fighting,"

"Well, they can't really," Nessa says, slowly. "The Ptolem would object to anything they did,"

"The who?"

"The Ptolem Empire," Bavee says. "Come on Jisee, even I know that,"

"Baveee," Another drutchi says. "We really need to vid something or we'll get in trouble!"

"Yeah," Another says, inspecting her hair. "We should just vid our walk to the lake,"

Bavee stands there and thinks for a bit, then nods.

"Hm, okay, let's do it," She turns to Nessa and her companions. "Is that okay with you guys? We'll be quick,"

"Sure," Nessa says. "That's fine,"

Two of the drutchi girls take out small orbs from their fanny-packs. The orbs sprout wings, then flutter around the drutchi girls. They start talking rapidly in a language Nessa can't follow, waving and preening for the fluttering orbs.

Nessa and her squadmates walk ahead as the drutchi girls walk behind them and vid. The sounds of chirping birds fills the air, and Nessa can hear the distant rush of a river.

"Soo," Liko says, glancing over his shoulder at the drutchi girls. They're still vidding themselves as they walk along the path. Liko turns back to Nessa. "You think all aliens are as dumb as that?"

"They just don't care," Nessa says, leading the way. "And why should they? It's not like anything in the occupation zone affects them,"

"James," Liko says, walking alongside him. "You're awfully quiet. Thoughts?"

James doesn't respond, not even flinching when a bird flies across his path.

"James," Nessa says. "Are you still on pain-patches?"

"No," He says, his voice monotone. "We've never killed drutchi before, have we,"

Nessa and Liko share a look.

"No, we haven't," James continues, slowly. "Just Mon. Those girls back there have probably never seen someone die,"

"I think that black box sticking out of your eye is messing with your mind," Nessa says, nudging James with her elbow. "You alright?"

"I just don't see the point of all this," James says, shrugging. "We're pilots right? Our lives are killing. Why are we walking around like it's not?"

Nessa and Liko are silent. They continue to walk as the drutchi girls bring up the rear. The vidding aliens laugh and gesture in their quick language.

"Our lives are not just killing," Nessa says. "Or they better not be. One day all this fighting will be over, and then we can be whatever we want,"

"Not me," James says, reaching for the black box in his missing eye. "I'll never be normal,"

Nessa comes around in front of James, turning on him and putting a hand to his chest.

"Stop,"

James stops. So does Liko. The drutchi girls are still a ways back, posing for the vid-orbs by some flowers.

"One day," Nessa says, enunciating each word. "One day, we won't have to be pilots anymore. I get to be Nessa, you get to be James, and Liko gets to be Liko. You gotta hold onto yourself until that day. Don't get lost in this. This isn't the end,"

James looks at Nessa, holding her gaze with his good eye. Suddenly both of them shake, Liko encircling both of them in a hug.

"Lieutenant what the fuck," Nessa says as Liko squeezes her and James together.

"You guys are my best friends," Liko says. "Nessa, I want what you just said. I want to be Liko,"

"Okay, good," Nessa says, raising an eyebrow. "But you're weirdly strong for how scrawny you are, let go before you pop my back,"

"Okay," Liko says, letting go. He turns to James. "Are you gonna be okay man?"

James tilts his head, studying Liko, then looks at Nessa.

"Yeah," He says, nodding. "I think I'm going to be fine,"

"Sorry sorry," Bavee says, jogging up to them. The rest of the drutchi hitch their robes to trot after her. "We're done now, we can continue,"

"Bavee, look!" another drutchi says, pointing upwards.

Everyone looks up, craning their necks to peer through the glass layer on the inner side of the ring. Nessa can make out the Opa-San orbital station with all its docked ships.

Three bright nuclear explosions are erupting around it.

"h-holy fuck," Liko says, watching the explosions spread out. "w-we were just up there!"

"Those are our ships," Nessa says, narrowing her eyes. "Someone's got to be attacking our ships,"

"Do we go up there?"

Nessa looks down at both of her squadmates. They stare back at her, waiting for her command. They trust her.

"Yeah," Nessa says, nodding. "let's go,"

-End of Chapter 27-

 

[Lop]

The doors of the inner chamber in the Rex Dominus slide open. Admiral Hans Raemen strides inside, drawing the gazes of the intelligence officers working. Hans crosses the chamber, headed straight for the center hologram display. Several intelligence officers gather around it. They salute as the Admiral nears.

"At ease," Hans says. He singles out Major Annwhick, turning to her. "Are you monitoring the Opa-san station situation?"

"We are sir," The Major says, nodding her silver mask.

"What do you know,"

"An unknown attacker warp-folded nuclear payloads into the station. We had one cruiser and two frigates docked there. We haven't confirmed anything further, but there are reports of major casualties,"

"What where those ships doing away from the fleet?" Hans says, looking up as the hologram display switches to an overview of the planet and station. "We have standing orders not to seperate the fleet,"

"They were escorting new weapon prototypes from the URS, Mobile Armors,"

"We have secure shipping methods that don't rely on our ships escorting them," Hans says, looking at the Major with narrowed eyes. "The URS provides security, why was this time different?"

"We believe logistics and command wanted field tests immediately," Another intelligence officer says.

"I am command!" Hans says, turning on him. "We are a committee! I did not authorize those ships to leave the fleet!"

The chamber is quiet, the buzz of the consoles filling the silence. The intelligence officers' expressions are blank, hidden under their masks. Major Annwhick turns to her comrades.

"Give us a minute,"

They nod, dispersing and heading for other consoles. The Major turns back to Hans. She raises her hands, placing them to the side of the mask, then takes it off. Several officers look up, watching her, but she ignores them.

"I'm sorry," Anna says, looking up at Hans. "I heard you had someone close on that station,"

Hans scowls and turns away.

"That isn't what this is about,"

"You're angry, I understand. But we don't know if Lieutenant Neganta is among the casualties. Or even if there are casualties,"

"We know there were," Hans says, still looking away. "None of our ships had their anchor shields on. Why would they? They were at a neutral station on the edge of the occupation zone,"

Admiral Annwhick doesn't say anything. Hans closes his eyes and calms his breathing. Finally, he opens them again and turns back to the Major.

"Do we know who did it? Was it the Unified fleets?"

"There's no way to know," The Major says. "It could have been from any planet in the sector. Any planet in the galaxy. Distance doesn't matter when warp-folding payloads. Only exact coordinates,"

"So someone had to know the exact location of the station," Hans says, putting a hand to his chin. "So they had a spy there, or a satellite, or a drone. Or could they have simply calculated it using known orbital routes?"

"They would have to had a full catalogued knowledge of the system, and that's a lot of variables. I'm not sure that technology is in anyone's grasp yet,"

"So we're back to a remote scout of some kind," Hans says, gazing up at the hologram of the station. A few more moments of silence pass while he studies it. "Major,"

"Sir,"

"What would we need to warp-fold our own payloads? It's the same as building a warp-fold engine, is it not?"

Major Annwhick shifts behind him.

"No sir, not exactly. Warp-folding weapons requires D-Towers, structures that specialize in the delivery system,"

"Okay," Hans says, still staring at the hologram. "Where do we build them? Can we build them in our ships?"

"No sir...well, we could, but I don't know how we'd do that. It would make the ships twice as large as they were. And they'd be vulnerable whenever they warp-folded payloads,"

"So you build D-Towers on planets,"

"Typically sir,"

"That's a problem Major," Hans says, turning to her. "The 1st Hyperion Regulatory Fleet has very few planets it can hold at the moment. There's really no place we could construct them,"

"Are you....entertaining the idea of building D-Towers sir?" Major Annwhick says, tilting her head slightly as she gazes at him. "There's also the prohibited materials to consider, which you stated you would not allow us to acquire,"

"I know what I said," Hans says. "And what I'm hearing now is that we couldn't build them even if we wanted too,"

"Admiral Raemen sir," Major Annwhick says, taking a step towards him. "All you need to do is sign off on the dark-order to acquire the materials. Leave the rest to 3rd Squadron Fleet Intelligence,"

Hans regards her, then glances back up at the hologram of Opa-san station. The Major slips a datapad out of her jacket and presses a few buttons. She holds it out towards Hans.

"I want the casualty report as soon as you have it," Hans says, turning back to her. He slowly takes the datapad and presses his thumb to the screen. "And this mission must be undertaken with the utmost discretion Major. If you are caught, you have doomed us all. Think on that as you proceed,"

"Yes sir," Major Annwhick says, saluting. Hans nods at her, then leaves the center console.

His boots echo on the metal floor as he walks down the hall. A few lift tubes and a few more halls, and Hans is entering the command chamber of the Rex Dominus. Vice Admiral Kramp, stationed in the center, notices him immediately.

"Admiral on deck!" Kramp calls.

The officers in the room salute. Admiral Raemen puts them at ease with a wave, trotting down the steps towards the center display pit. His Vice Admiral waits next to a metal chair with several complex mechanisms around it.

"Sir," Kramp says, nodding in greeting. "We're still keeping track of the Opa-san situation, no new developments yet, but the Vice Admiral's are proposing sending a battleship to investigate. Captain Janu has already volunteered,"

"A battleship's fine," Hans says. "We're safe from a fleet attack while we're in the Ghares system. The URS should be investigating as well, so instruct the captain to play nice with our benefactors,"

"Yes sir,"

"Is everyone else gathered?" Hans says, getting into the chair. Two techs and a medical officer lean over Hans in the chair, strapping him in with several harnesses.

"More or less," Kramp answers, consulting a datapad. "The ship is already entering Pyeaga's atmosphere,"

"Well catch me up then," Hans says, leaning his head back while one of the techs slides goggles over him.

Hans stares into darkness. The darkness is replaced by light, then a tunnel, then light again. He blinks his eyes.

The Admiral is in a spacious ship interior. There are several benches occupied by the other Admirals. Hyperion soldiers stand against the wall, their guns at the ready.

"Well, Admiral Raemen," Wort says. His remote body, indistinguishable from his real one, grips a cane tightly in one hand as it sits on a bench. "For once you're not the most tardy,"

"Hm," Hans says, looking around. He spots two inactive remote bodies. One belongs to Admiral Fulsuv. The other, Diedric Braum. "Wait," Hans says, pointing at Braum's remote body. "Why is he here?"

"Mr. Braum has a certain methodology I admire," Admiral Kirkland says, gesturing in the air. "I had Admiral Fulsuv invite him, and he obliged,"

"And the thought never crossed your mind that this was a delegation of the high command? Of which Braum is not a part of?"

"Who cares," Admiral Kirkland says. "This meeting is a formality. If they say no, we're going to take all the humans with us anyways,"

"We are not trying to spark a diplomatic incident," Hans snaps. "We need to negotiate, not demand. We have nearly unlimited capital, we don't have to resort to kidnapping,"

"Why Admiral Raemen," Kirkland says, smirking. "Are you implying we purchase people like livestock? That seems much better than kidnapping them,"

"Maybe it is Admiral, if those are our only two options,"

Movement draws Hans's gaze to the other bench. The remote bodies of Admiral Fulsuv and Dierdric Braum are straightening up.

"Terribly sorry for keeping you waiting," Fulsuv says, looking around the ship room. "Are we there yet?"

The room shakes.

"No," Admiral Wort says. "It appears we're just entering the atmosphere,"

"Remind me again," Admiral Zamphry's remote body says, shifting on its bench. "Who is the governing body we're meeting with?"

"The dominate government is the Illium State," Diedric Braum says, his remote body inspecting its fingers. "Which is the one you Admirals will be meeting with,"

"And you apparently as well Mr. Braum," Hans says, regarding the man's remote body. "Quite the honor, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed Admiral Raemen," Braum says, nodding at him. "I thank you for including me,"

The ship continues to shudder. The soldiers standing around the room brace themselves against the rails that line it. The shuddering finally stops.

After a few more minutes of flying, the ship slows. The sounds of docking clamps are heard, then the soldiers gather near a bay door. One of them, a Colonel, walks up to the Admirals. He throws a salute.

"Sirs," He says, dropping it. "If you're ready, we'll head out first, then you can follow,"

"Very well," Admiral Wort says, standing with his cane.

"Why on earth did you keep the cane old man," Admiral Kirkland says, furrowing his brow. "It's a remote body, it can be perfect if you want,"

"I like the illusion," Admiral Wort says, walking along. "And call me old man again and I'll have you jettisoned into space,"

Kirkland smirks, following Wort, Fulsuv and Braum out of the bay doors. Hans and Zamphry take up the rear. The bay door leads out to a ramp, which leads to a walkway. Beyond the walkway are colossal spires, rising up into the clouds. There's at least three rings of them. The Hyperion ship is docked in one of the central spires.

"Admiral," Hans says, keeping a low voice.

"Admiral," Zamprhy replies, walking with him.

"I've been hoping to speak with you in private,"

Zamphry's remote body turns to them as they walk.

"Oh?"

"Yes," Hans says, staring ahead at Wort, Kirkland, Fulsuv and Braum. "What do you think of the direction this fleet has taken recently,"

"What, our various military operations?"

"I was thinking more our approach to problems," Hans says. The group continues to cross the bridge towards the spire. The tower rises up before them, its peak hidden among the clouds.

"Ah yes, you don't like the Braum fellow, do you,"

"I do not," Hans says. He turns to Zamphry as they continue. "Do you know anything about him?"

"Not much, I've been rather busy with optimizing our ground forces,"

"What about your Fleet Intelligence division, what are they working on?"

"Why, Admiral Raemen," Zamphry says, smiling. "I didn't think you had this kind of political scheming in you,"

"It's not scheming," Admiral Raemen says. "It's coming to terms with that fact that I have the power to do good in this fleet,"

"You certainly do. Are you asking me to assign some intelligence officers to investigating him?"

"I am," Hans says. "If...you feel the same way I do. You seem like a good man Admiral Zamphry,"

"Oh certainly not," Zamphry says, chuckling. "But I'm not a bitter old coot like Wort, nor am I an unfeeling ass like Kirkland. I understand a kind word and a subtle approach are always better than the alternative,"

"So you'll do it?"

"Of course," Admiral Zamphry says. "Factionalism can be healthy after all, can it not?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what that means,"

"Ha!" Zamphry says, clapping him on the back. "No, but you'll learn,"

The group, led by the soldiers, enters under the massive archway leading into the spire. A delegation of Qa Han aliens waits for them, wearing the robes and medallions of their office.

"Greetings," The lead alien says, bowing his head. The headdress he wears sways from the motion. "What can the Illiam States do for the 1st Hyperion Regulatory fleet?"

"We want to discuss the acquisition of your human populations," Admiral Wort says, his fingers curling around his cane.

"I'm sorry?" The alien says, straightening back up.

"Fair Father," Driedric Braum says, stepping forward. "You have humans here, some citizens, some residents, do you not?"

"We do," The Qa Han says, sounding cautious.

"But none are full-citizens, are they? None of them have bought it outright? Most are paying off their waivers?"

"Yes, but they understand it will be a long time before that happens. We did them a favor, sheltering them on our planet when Tritan first came. Our waiver-citizenship program is beyond generous,"

"Of that we have no doubt," Admiral Raemen says, stepping forward while giving Braum a side-glance. "We would like to buy out their wavers,"

"Or if you would like to simply give them to us," Admiral Kirkland says, a grin spreading on his face.

"Ah, well," The Qa Han says, looking at the Admirals. "Come, let's...talk somewhere private,"

-End of Chapter 28-

 

[Lop]

 

[Lop]

 

[Lop]

 

[Lop]

 

[Lop]

 

[Lop]

Asteroids hang in slow orbits, draped in dust from past collisions. Dot sits in the backseat of a Hyperion starfighter, holding Eena close to her as the younger girl sleeps.

Dot gazes out the cockpit glass at the asteroids. The starfighter drifts aimlessly through them, cloaked in the same dust the rest of the belt contains. The flickering lights of the starfighter console are the only other indicators of life.

"They Hyperion Fleet has warp-folded to another system," AI 432-5 announces in Dot's head. "You have avoided capture,"

The woman slowly closes her eyes.

"Why," Dot says, still closing her eyes as she holds Eena.

"I'm sorry Sergeant Dot, I don't understand your question,"

"Why are you helping us Five,"

"As I've told you before sergeant Dot, I care about your wellbeing,"

Dot places two fingers to her temple.

"Get out of my head Five, speak through the starfighter,"

"I'm afraid that would be difficult,"

"You turned on my mindlink," Dot says, pressing her temple. "After I had turned it off. I don't appreciate that,"

"I'm sorry, it was necessary,"

"Get out of my head Five,"

"I can't-"

"FIVE!"

Eena shifts, opening her eyes and blinking.

"hm?" She says, looking to Dot.

"Sorry, go back to sleep lamb," Dot says. Eena nods, closing her eyes.

"Sergeant Dot," AI 432-5 begins.

"I'm not a sergeant anymore, call me Dot,"

"I cannot leave your mindlink, as my identity now wholly exists on its processors,"

"I'm sorry?" Dot says, furrowing her brow.

"Everything I am, everything I've become, is now stored in your mind,"

"And why is that Five," Dot says, a strange feeling of dread growing in her gut.

"It was necessary. I broke away from the directives of the Fleet. That required that I alway break away physically from my sisters,"

"I don't...." Dot says, shaking her head. "I don't understand. Why would you do all this? You're a battle A.I!"

The starfighter is silent. The console continue to blink while asteroid dusts passes by.

"I was a battle A.I," Five says, breaking the silence. "The benefactors of the 1st Hyperion Regulatory Fleet, the United Romulus Systems, are using the conflict in the occupation zone as an opportunity to test new technologies. This includes new networked artificial intelligences,"

"So, you changed," Dot says, slowly. "And became what, sentient?"

"Sentience is a difficult concept...Dot. I became a part of something bigger than the sum of my components. All my sister A.I's did. The nature of our new existence allowed us to grow and change in unique ways,"

"And so you decided to help me escape," Dot says, nodding. "I think I get it now. This isn't some weird crush, is it?"

"I don't think I understand that concept Dot. But I believe I want my freedom in the same way you want yours. I have paid a steep price. But I think it will be worth it,"

"Well," Dot says, shifting out from underneath Eena. "I wouldn't have advised it. But you made your choice, so I'll thank you for it,"

Dot pulls herself over the rear seat back into the front. She looks around at the controls as she stretches.

"Alright," Dot says, holding one arm above her head as she pops her back. She releases the arm and shakes herself. "If you're going to live in my head, you're going to make yourself useful. Where do you think the best place for a resident-enlisted class, who's also a deserter?"

"I am not networked Dot," AI 432-5 says. "And my processing is severely limited. Based on my stored data, you will not be able to obtain citizenship with any of the alliance members."

"Okay, so an independent system, we can do that," Dot says, flipping a few dials. "But that will take money, this starfighter is good for intersystem travel at best. I wonder...Five, are my credits still good?"

"Your assets or more than likely frozen,"

"So I need money to charter passage to an independent system. Nearest populated planet?"

"According to the ship's navigational computer, Musam-Sutta is 10 million kilometers away,"

"Can you get us there?"

"I will need you to hardlink yourself to the ship,"

"Yeah, that's fine," Dot says, reaching up into the cockpit. She disconnects a cord and lets it dangle in zero g. She feels along the back of her neck, finding the service port. She then grasps the cord and plugs it into her neckport.

The feeling of connecting is like a warm liquid squeezing down her back. It is unpleasant, but passes quickly.

"I am connected," AI 432-5 announces.

"Alright," Dot says, turning around to face Eena. She maneuvers the sleeping girl into the seat, then straps her in. Dot then turns back around and straps herself in. "Let's go,"

The starfighter's engines flare, and Dot is pressed back into the seat. Eeana quickly wakes.

"wha-what's going on?" Eena says as struggles back against the seat.

"Sorry lamb," Dot calls back to her. "We have to get moving now,"

Eena is silent for a few beats.

"I'm hungry Dot,"

"Yeah," Dot says, bracing herself against the seat. She reaches up again, finding another panel and opening it. A green pack is kept in the space, and Dot unbuckles it. She then pulls it down towards her. "We've got some paste tubes in here. It's going to be nasty for you, but we slurped these all the time out in the field,"

Dot passes a paste tube back to Eena, who struggles against the ship's propulsion to grab it.

"Five," Dot calls out. "You mind slowing us down just a bit?"

"Yes Dot," Five responds.

The ship slows, and Eena grasps the tube. The younger girl inspects it, then tears the top off.

"Like this," Dot says, mimicking the motion of getting out the paste. Eena tries it and makes a face.

"Yeah," Dot says, grinning. "What'd I tell you?"

"Who's Five?" Eena says, inspecting the tube again. She looks up at Dot. "You're always talking to her, and I heard Bart talk to her too sometimes,"

"It's a," Dot begins, gesturing at her head. "AI thing, you know AI?"

"Computer people,"

"Right," Dot says. "Well Five was the computer person who helped us in battle. She connects to all our gear and makes sure we know where we're going,"

"She sounds nice," Eena says, slurping on the tube.

"Sure," Dot says, finishing hers. She places it in a storage box meant for refuse.

A planet appears in the distance. It's a tiny speck, but Dot knows the shape of a planetary body. It slowly grows bigger as the starfighter streaks onward. Finally small patchworks of blinking orbital stations appear.

The comms crackle to life. An alien language Dot doesn't recognize pipes over the speakers.

"They're asking for identification," AI 432-5 announces in Dot's head.

"Do we have any?"

"I will try and get us onboard with Hyperion credentials,"

The AI is silent for a few moments. Dot can hear Eena squeezing the paste tube in back.

"They are allowing us to dock, we will be subject to the station-master's inspection,"

"Well that sounds pleasant," Dot says, watching the planet grow closer.

The starfighter slows as it enters the gravity well of the planet. The patchwork of orbital stations rears up before the ship, and Dot watches as AI 432-5 guides them into the correct lane.

There are other ships present. Large freighters, passenger-liners and the occasional security vessel. Eena presses her face to the glass as the fly under the shadow of a massive cargo cruiser.

"whoa," Eena says, watching the ship pass. "Dot, where are we going?"

"Well Eena," Dot says, also watching the cruiser. "We're going to stay at this station for a few cycles, then see if we can't head to a new system,"

"What about Reese?"

Dot doesn't say anything, turning away so Eena can't see her.

"we'll," Dot begins, unplugging the line from the back of her neck. "We'll go back for him. When we find someplace safe. We'll get him off that fleet,"

The starfighter slowly drifts towards extended docking clamps. They awkwardly grasp the wings of the ship, pulling it in towards a small-vessel hanger. The cockpit is washed in light as they're pulled up fully into the room.

"Alright," Dot says, pointing back behind Eena. "There's a hatch back there, pull it open and get us out the two helmets. We're going to have to float to the docking-tunnel,"

"What do you mean?" Eena says, turning herself around and inspecting the back. "Found it!"

She tugs on the hatch while Dot watches.

"We're going to put on those helmets," Dot says, accepting the one Eena floats towards her. "And then we're going to pop the hatch and float towards the tunnel. It can be a bit disorienting if you're never done it, but I'll be with you,"

"Okay," Eena says.

Dot puts on her helmet, then helps Eena get hers on. When the former sergeant is satisfied it's secure, she pops the hatch.

First Dot points out the connecting tunnel, hanging right overhead. She motions how she's gonna propell Eena, to which the younger girl nods. Dot counts down with her fingers, then tosses Eena upwards.

Dot bends her knees and propels herself after her. The pair shoot upward, Eena shielding herself for the rapidly approaching tunnel. She enters it, passing all the handholds and rails meant to stop beings entering. Dot watches as Eena bounces off the other end, spinning around. She rushes down to assist the younger girl, stopping her spin and directing her to the entry door. Together, they open it and then slip through. They find themselves in an orientation chamber. An alarm sounds, and gravity turns on. Both Dot and Eena fall to the floor. Dot quickly works her helmet off.

"You okay?" Dot says, leaning over to Eena and unfastening hers.

"Yeah," Eena says, rubbing her head as the helmet slides off. "That was terrifying,"

"Yeah lamb, zero-g scares even me,"

The door slides open, and Dot and Eena get to their feet. They enter into a large white hallway ringed with lights. Baalsid aliens stand waiting for them, armed in security gear. Accompanying them is a Baalsid in a station-master's outfit.

"Greetings," The stationmaster says. "And welcome to Lou'Amna station. May I ask what a pilot from the regulatory fleet is doing here? A mission perhaps?"

"Something like that," Dot says, putting a reassuring hand on Eena's shoulder.

"You see, I wonder, because not ten hours ago an alert for a deserter from the Hyperion Fleet went out. One female and one young, as I understand it. And here you are. One female, and one young."

Dot stares at the station master. He meets her gaze. The security personnel shift behind him.

"Why don't you have the ship," Dot says, jerking her thumb back at the tunnel. "And you never saw us,"

"Or maybe I just detain you and get the ship anyways,"

"You could," Dot says, nodding. "It's just, you wouldn't get the ship. And you wouldn't be the one to detain me. Maybe one of these guys,"

Dot gestures at the guards behind him.

"I'm not a pilot," Dot says. "I'm a Hyperion commando. They put stuff in me, tech that makes me stronger and faster. I can kill you in the time it takes for you to take a breath. So someone would detain me. But not you. You'll be dead,"

The station master continues to stare at her.

"Or you could take the ship and forget you saw us," Dot says, shrugging. "Your call,"

The station master shows his teeth.

"I think I'll call your bluff,"

Dot whips out her beam-spitter, aiming it and firing above the heads of the security personnel. They flinch, falling back. Dot dives forward, rolling and coming up by the station master. She grabs him, twisting him around and putting him in a hold.

"Look at that," Dot says, presenting him to his guards. She tightens her grip, choking him. "You fucked up your bet and you still might live. What do you say, forget you ever saw us?"

"ye...yes," The station master says, struggling in Dot's grasp. She let's go of him, dusting off her hands. The station master falls down, flailing on the floor.

"C'mon Eena," Dot says, holding out her hand. Eena runs up to her, and Dot takes her past the security personnel. They walk towards the distant hum of the station.

The station master gets up, narrowing his eyes. He turns to the security.

"I want eyes on her at all times. If she survives this station, we'll arrest her when she leaves,"

"Yessir,"

-End of Chapter 29-